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WAS-IN -FLOWER 



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"Wten tie WMwood Was In Flower." 



A NARRATIVE 



COVERING THE FIFTEEN YEARS' EXPERIENCES OF 
A NEW YORKER ON THE WESTERN PLAINS. 



BY 



G. SMITH STANTON, 

Author of "Where the Sportsman Loves to Linger," et al. 



New York: 

J. S. GGILYIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

57 Rose Street. 






Copyright, 1910, by 
G. SMITH STANTON 



H 






©CI.A259476 



Ic /o-7^'i3 



To those men and women who endured the hardships and 
braved the da^igers of the frontier that their descend- 
ants might enjog the comforts and benefits of 
civilization, this volume is dedicated. 



PREFACE. 

The object of this little volume is two-fold. First, the 
author was one of the pioneers of the great West, and he 
thought his reminiscences would be of some value from 
a historical standpoint, and, secondly, the recounting of 
his experience with one of the gigantic trusts might help 
to arouse public opinion to the necessity of crushing those 
great combinations ere they become the absolute dictators 
of our government. 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 
]New York to '^'^the End of the Line^^ 11 

CHAPTER II. 
Following the Trail 19 

CHAPTER III. 
Life on the Frontier 28 

CHAPTER IV. 
Reminders of By-gone Days 37 

CHAPTER V. 
Winter on the Prairie 51 

CHAPTER VI. 
Running a Stock Ranch 61 

CHAPTER VII. 
Shipping Stock to Chicago 74 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Atmospheric Disturbances 80 



8 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER IX. PAGE 

Up Against the Red Man 94 

CHAPTER X. 
The Plains and the Rockies 103 

CHAPTER XI. 
The Passing of the Stockman 117 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 



West Point 12 

Where Fort Dearborn Once Stood 13 

On the Grade 17 

The Alkali Overland Coach 19 

^^Hands Up !" 22 

The Valley of the Boyer, Woodbine 23 

This is "By" 29 

A Prairie Wolf 31 

The Valley of the Pigeon— "Stanton's Kanch" 34 

"Joe'' Smith 42 

Where the Burglars Tried to Work Pusey and His 

Combination 44 

Braden in His Younger Days 48 

When the Wildwood Was in Flower 49 

The Author, When Mayor of Woodbine, Iowa 52 

The Author's Kesidence, Great Neck, Long Island, N. Y. 54 

First Touch of AVinter on the Northwestern 57 

Would I Were on the Plains Again 60 

A Self-binder 62 

The Beef Trust Will Get the Profit 64 

The Author 71 

"Johnny" Wells 76 

Moingona Bridge, Scene of Kate Shelly's Heroic Act 79 

The Home of the Stockman and His Herd 82 

The Mother Watching the Branding of Its Offspring. . 85 

The Autlior's Wife and Her Indian Pony 88 



10 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 



"Texas," Our Mainstay 91 

Little Wolfs Double 95 

The Original American 98 

Dinner Is Now Ready in the Dining Car 101 

Omaha 104 

Denver and the Ever Snow-capped Rockies Ill 

Fryer's Hill in the Long Ago 113 

The Little Pittsburg in the Good Old Days 115 

My Last Bunch of Stock 119 

Union Stock Yards, Chicago 121 



When the Wildwood was in Flower 



CHAPTER I. 

NEW YORK TO "THE END OF THE LINE." 

Back in the earl}^ sixties, as the announcer of the arrival 
and departure of trains at the old Thirtieth Street Depot, 
New York Cit}^, over the Hudson River Railroad, was call- 
ing "Chicago express now ready,'' the author of this little 
volume, grip in hand, was about to follow the admonition 
of the greatest editor the New York Tribune ever had — 
"Go West, young man !'' This particular young man had 
recently graduated from the Columbia College Law School, 
and on account of his health Imd decided to start a stock 
ranch on a large tract of land in western Iowa left to him 
in the will of his grandfather. Judge Daniel Cady. Think 
of the transformation from a law office in Nassau Street 
to an isolated stock ranch on the Missouri River I While 
the train was passing West Point we were performing the 
disrobing act prior to our taking advantage of tlie invent- 
ive genius of one Mr. Wagner. For eight hours of re- 
freshing sleep we returned tlianks to mine host Wagner. 
As we passed through the metropolis of the West, situated 
on the western shore of Lak(^ Micliigan in that one-time 

11 



12 



WHEN THE ^YILDWOOD ^yAS IN FLOWER 



bog-hole where Fort Dearborn once stood, little did I know 
what an important part in my future the Union stock- 
yards of that great city were to play. 




West Point. 

Upon my arrival at Chicago I got my first glimpse of the 
breezy West. How different was the metropolis of the 
West at that time from that of the East ! How different 
the citizenship of State Street from that of Broadway! 
Men predominated on State Street. Instead of the fashion- 
ably dressed lady of Fifth Avenue, you met her Western 
sister plainly garbed. How great the contrast between 
the men of the "wild and woolly West" and those of the 
East! The slouch hat instead of the English tile. Ill- 
fitting clothes and an unkempt appearance instead of the 
well groomed. The citizens of the great and mighty 
West beyond mingled with the throng. Mountaineers 



NEW YORK TO "THE END OF THE LINE/^ 13 

from the Eockies, cowboys from the plains, stockmen 
from the grazing country and wheat kings from the Da- 
kotas rubbed shouhlers as they bustled along the thorough- 
fares of the great city by tlie lake, the supply depot for tlie 
vast country to the West, the recipient of the products of 
the States between the lakes and the Great Divide, the 



Where Fort Dearborn Once Stood. 

greatest railroad center in America and the receiver of 
more grain and stock than any city of our Union. Foi'tu- 
nate for me it was that at the Sherman House — at tliat 
time the leading hostelry of Cliicago — T met a gentleman 
whose acquaintance I formed in New York, Mv. Dalrymple, 
the wiieat king of the Avorld. With him I visited the 
great elevators through which the grain raised over 



14 WHEN THE \A^ILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

the prairie States passed into vessels and in them over the 
lakes and across the sea. We also visited the packing- 
houses from which the world drew its supplies. 

I thought I had seen at Castle Garden in New York a 
motley crowd of immigrants, but the sight I beheld at the 
depot of the Northwestern Railroad capped anything I 
ever saw at the Batterv, and the worst of it was that the 
immigra'nt cars were being hitched onto the train I was 
taking, and for some unaccountable reason they were 
coupled on between the sleeper and the regular pas- 
senger coaches. What a mixture of humanity was on 
that train. The regular day coaches were occupied 
solely by men, the majority of them recruits from New 
York City and Chicago, for some special work in the West. 
The effluvia from the immigrant cars so permeated the 
sleeper that I spent most of the time in the day coaches. 
In my young days I circulated along the Bowery and 
thought I had seen a tou2^h element, but the bovs who occu- 
pied the smoker and day coaches of that train had the 
Bowerj^ left at the post. Every one of them had anywhere 
from a pint to a quart of whiskey and were playing cards, 
swearing and fighting the length of the cars. It was a 
choice between the American citizen in the front cars and 
the effluvia of the newly arrived in the immigrant portion. 
I wondered what those immigrants thought of the natives 
of the country of which they were about to become citizens. 

After leaving Chicago as we crossed the level y^rairies of 
the State of Illinois I recalled the great debate of those two 
sons of tlie Sucker State, Lincoln and Douglas. What an 
example the greatest President since Washington set of 
honesty both in and out of politics. Has the greed for the 
almighty dollar so Avarped us all that we care not to emu- 
late his noble example? If Lincoln were alive to-day does 



NEW YOUK TO "THE END OF THE LINE.'^ 15 

any one doubt where he would stand in the contest being 
waji'ed between the ri<;hts of the individual and the wrongs 
of the combination? How buig is the great and mighty 
AVest to be dominated by Wall Street? But the awakening 
will come, and by the people and through the people. 
Though legislative halls and courts fail, still it will come. 
I saw an uprising once, but God forbid that I ever Avitness 
another. I refer to what was known as the July riots of 
18G3 in New York City. For three days the great City of 
New York was at the mercy of the mob. The police dared 
not leave their precincts, the militia kept to their armories, 
everybody was cowed, there was no government. I was a 
deputy for a time, sworn in to protect [Mayor Opdyke in his 
palatial residence on Fifth Avenue. I there saw hoAV help- 
less was government when the mob arose. During one of 
those awful days I was the custodian of Horace Greeley at 
the home of my uncle. Dr. Bayard, at 6 West Fourteenth 
Street. Mr. Greeley was taken away from his own home to 
save his life from an infuriated mob. Notwithstanding that 
Mr. Greelev was alwavs a defender of the right, vet they 
{nought his life. From that circumstance I learned that no 
prominent person is safe when revolution breaks forth. 
What is now known as the Chicago and Northwest- 
ern Railroad was the first railway across Iowa, and it 
liad rails laid at that time to the town of ^Montana, now 
Boone, about 200 miles west of the Mississippi River. Not- 
Avithstanding it is over forty years since I first saw that 
frontier town, still I can see it to-day as vividly as when 
I stepped from the train just as the sun was showing 
its head over the prairies of the Hawkeye State. Daily 
stages started for the West, but I thought I would tarry 
a day or two and look around. When I was attending 
rolmnbia College LaAV School in Lafayette Place, New 



16 WHEN THE \yiLDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

York City, we were living on West Forty-fifth Street. I 
always walked to and from the school. My course lay down 
Fifth Avenue to Broadway, and down Broadway to Astor 
Place. There was nothing about Boone that reminded me 
of Fifth Avenue or Broadway. 

Imagine about two hundred one-story, detached, frame 
buildings, about every other one a saloon, gambling-house 
or dance-hall, strung along a street — simply a stretch of 
prairie about 60 feet in width — with not a tree in sight, 
crowded with a sample of every brand of citizen from 
border to border, and you can x^retty nearly size up a town 
at ''the end of the line." The buildings were thrown to- 
gether, as it was only a question of thirty days before they 
would be again moved to "the end of the line." There was 
plenty of music and whiskey. Occasional fights added to 
the excitement. Tall, black-mustached, rough-looking men, 
with wide sombreros, their pants in their boots, armed 
cap-a-pie, jostled their way through the street looking for 
trouble and generally finding it. Young officers from the 
government forts, dressed in the uniform of the United 
States army, were sipping wine with straw-haired girls. 
Indians decked out with feathers, moccasins and a blan- 
ket, were on the still hunt for firewater to drink and dogs 
to eat. One of the Indians, more successful than the oth- 
ers, got too much fircAvater. He had shed his blanket, and, 
in the garb of Adam, with the exception of feathers on his 
head and moccasins on his feet, with a war-whoop, knife 
in hand, undertook to carve a way up the street. Above 
the heads of the retreating crowd circled a lariat, and as 
it settled over the red man's shoulders it tightened, and Mr. 
Indian bounced behind a cowboy's pony to the cooler. 

Leaning against the bars were young men from the 
East, each a mother's hope and pride, who had left their 



NEW YOUK TO '^'^THE END OF THE LINE. 



jy 



IT 



happy homes to seek their fortunes in the new Eklorado. 
The men behind the bar, those in front of it, and the fellow 
waitino- to be asked, were tryin<»- to express their views at 
one and the same time. Capitalists from New York and 
England, with mining engineers, were on their way to 




On the Grade. 

the Rockies. Unhaltered mules wandered around the town, 
and every now and then some vicious cuss with his ears 
back would kick a swath doAvn the thoroughfare. I.und)er- 
ing oxen were slowly moving through the street yoked to 
wagons marked ^'U. S.,-- loaded with grain and provisions 
for the forts and reservations. Long lines of mule teams 
were constantly going down the grade carting scrapers, 
grain and grub. 



18 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

It is astonishing the profanity it requires to build a rail- 
road. If i^rofanit}' were of intrinsic value and could be 
put in cold storage, I heard enough of it the two days T 
passed in Boone to pay the dividends on the stock of the 
Northwestern for generations to come. Prairie schooners 
loaded with the families and household effects of sons of 
toil from Indiana and Illinois Avere winding their way 
through the outskirts of the town to accept Uncle Sam's 
hospitality and settle on the plains to the westward. Herds 
of grass-fed cattle, smooth and fat, were arriving from 
the luscious grasses of the Missouri Eiver plateau to be 
shipped to the Eastern markets, and paid-off cowboys 
would ride on bucking ponies through the dance-houses 
shooting daylight through the roofs. All night long ties 
and rails were being unloaded from gondola and box cars. 
There was one great satisfaction in it all, everybody was 
an American, and English the only language heard. The 
immigrant from the other side had not yet driven the 
American from the labor market. The sense of fair plaj' 
])ervaded the community, and there was a body of citizens 
always standing around who took particular pains to see 
that everybody, no matter who or what he was, got a square 
deal. 



FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 



19 



CHAPTER II. 



FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 



The second mornino: after my arrival I took the stage 
for the West. The outfit was similar to the now historic 
Dead wood Coach. With seven passengers besides myself, 




The Alkali Overland Coach. 



it started down the road for the bridge over the Des Moines 
River, and the limitless prairies beyond. Sitting bolt up- 
right for thirty-six hours, Avith only short intervals to 



20 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

stretch your legs and supply the inner man, was quite a 
change from the lower berth of a Pullman and "dinner is 
now ready in the dining-car.'' Think of the forty-niners; 
they had sixteen days and nights of it ! They deserved the 
gold they got. Following one of the old stage routes across 
the plains would have been a bonanza for the "old hats'' 
man of the city, as the road was strewn with hats jostled 
off from dozing passengers. Frequently passing us, both 
day and night, were horsemen going like the wind, whom 
I learned were special government and express messengers. 
During the night a feeling of lonesomeness came over me. 
At every turn of the wheels I felt myself going farther and 
farther from the Bowery, It seemed as if I were cutting 
loose from everything. I commenced for the first time to 
realize the situation, and was fast getting a case of "cold 
feet." 

Think of leaving behind the gay Fashion Course and Hi- 
ram Woodruff, as we often saw him, holding the ribbons 
over some fast trotter ! What a delight after the day's work 
was done to stroll down Broadway to Niblo's Garden, and 
after the show to drop into John Morrissey's for a mid- 
night lunch, and to play the ace to win. What a pleasure 
it was to look across the footlights at old John Gilbert and 
Lester Wallack, or to feel your blood tingle as Edwin 
Booth in Hamlet would repeat the lines "Do you see noth- 
ing there?" What! never to see Dan Bryant and Dave 
Reed dance "Shoefly" again? The idea! What a recrea- 
tion it was to go over to the Elysian Fields in Hoboken 
in the afternoon and see the Mutuals play the great Ameri- 
can game, and in the evening see old Mike Phelan and 
Dudley Kavanaugh toy with the ivories ! We often passed 
the time of day with Commodore Vanderbilt while driving 
through Central Park. How that gifted speaker, James T. 



FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 21 

Brady, during the war, used to enthuse our patriotism! 
What a treat it was to drop into some forum and liear the 
learned Charles O'Conor lay down the law. Often have 
we gone to the large hall of Cooper Institute and listened 
to that graceful elocutionist, Wendell Phillips, deliver one 
of his famous lectures, and on Sunday morning to Brook- 
lyn and heard Brother Beecher tell us what we had to do 
to reach the promised land, and in the afternoon to Coney 
Island, to eat clams on the half shell at the old Pavilion, 
see the three-card monte men fleece the unsophisticated, 
and try to wash our sins away among the great combers of 
the deep. 

I was leaving all this, and more, and what for? My 
liealth. Can health come to the body with the mind in 
gloom? Why couldn't we all have health all the time? 
(jod help the one Avho has the mone^^ and the health ques- 
tion to contend with at the same time. One is always being 
neglected for the other, and, under the pressure of the com- 
bination, frail humanity soon gives way. 

What a sweep there is to the imagination and what 
timidity comes with the stilly night! I felt as if I 
wanted to jump from the stage and bolt back to 
Boone, and very likely would if I hadn't suddenly 
been brought to my senses by a sharp command — 
''Halt, throw up your hands!" two shots almost sitnulta- 
neously, a crack of the whip, and the sudden lunge of the 
stage forward. I soon learned that a lone bandit had 
attempted to hold us up, and had been shot by the Wells- 
Fargo express messenger who sat beside the driver. I 
was satisfied to sit still. Instead of meditating, I was 
congratulating myself that I was alive and my money safe. 
It is an old but true saying that we never know Avhen we 



22 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



are ^^ell off. That little episode dispelled the gloom, and 
"Richard is himself again/' 

At dusk on the second day we had covered the one hun- 
dred miles between Boone and a little hamlet forty miles 
east of Council Bluffs, consisting of a store, a post-office, a 
tavern, two houses and a mill, known as Woodbine, my des- 
tination. Not very exhilarating surroundings to a youth 
fresh from Broadway. Little did I know that years after- 




" Hands Up!" 

ward a flourishing municipality by the same name would 
be built near by on the Northwestern Railroad, and I 
would have the honor of being its mayor. 

The last twenty-five miles were down the far-famed val- 
ley of the Boyer River, afterward to prove to be one of 
the most productive valleys of one of the best agricultural 
States of the Union. It was a lovely spring day. In the 
early morn the soft, melodious crowing of the prairie chick- 
ens greeted us. The prairies were decked out in the flowers 



FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 



23 



of the wild, and as we bowled along it seenieil as if Nature 
was doing all she could to make us welcome. Everything 
was quiet, peaceful and content. A few A^ears ago I passed 
down the same valley. What a change in forty years I It 
was gashcHl by two railroads, and where the prairie flower 
once bloomed and the wild game flourished, and the Indian, 
the only contented individual who ever inhabited America, 




The Valley of the Boyer, Woodbine. 

roamed at will, were hard-working toilers trying to eke 
out an existence. Little hamlets Avere scattered here and 
there, with the daily life similar in all communities, con- 
taining more shadow than sunshine, and the question was 
forced upon me, would it not have been better if the trans- 
formation had never been made? 

Twentv miles from Woodbine, in the isolated vallev of 
the Pigeon River, I was to live for the next fifteen years. 
Near Woodbine on a stock ranch lived the man Avith whom 



24 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

1 had become acquainted through correspondence, the one 
^'hom I sought and who willingly assisted me in the enter- 
prise in which I was about to embark. A man made after 
God's own image, no more upright, honorable human being 
was ever born than the one whom I was afterward to be 
associated with in the great cattle industry of the plains, 
Byron O. Adams, better known all over the West and to 
every shipper of live stock to Chicago as "By" Adams, and 
I hope there is a hereafter, that I may meet my dear friend 
again. 

Upon my arrival at Woodbine, I learnt that my friend 
"By" Adams had gone to Shelby County, to bring back 
with him one Bill Cuppy who had been drafted, and would 
not return for a couple of days. "By" was a deputy provost 
marshal during the war, his duties consisting of rounding 
up the drafted men. And thereby hangs a tale. 

From a map of Iowa I purchased in Chicago, and from 
my experiences thereafter, I -found that the word "exagger- 
ation" was in the Iowa lexicon. I expected to find creeks 
called rivers, ponds lakes, but I did not expect to find a 
"city" a house and a barn. According to the map, "Jeddo 
City" was about two hours' drive away, and I decided that 
the two days "By" was after Cuppy I would spend in the 
gay resorts of Jeddo City. The tavern-keeper supplied a 
driver and the necessary rig, and the next morning after 
my arrival, over the prairies we went to Jeddo City. How 
gay and happy I felt as we trotted along for Jeddo ! How 
I longed for a taste of city life again ! I could see myself 
entering one of the leading hotels of the city and writing 
my "John Hancock" on its register and taking the elevator 
for my room. I did not expect to find a New York, but 
certainly "Jeddo City" would have similar earmarks. I 
could see myself strolling along the main thoroughfare of 



FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 25 

the city with the gay crowd by day, and at night admiring 
the chorus as they swung ah)ng the footliglits. I could see 
myself in the crowded restaurants ordering the choice of 
the menu. In fact, I was picturing to myself a coun- 
terpart of the big city on the Hudson. 

There was one thing about the driver that I could not 
quite fathom. Every time I asked him anything about 
Jeddo Cit}^, he would look at me and smile. I attributed 
the smile to a reminder of some of his experiences in the 
great city of Jeddo. It was ten miles from Woodbine to 
Jeddo City. After we had traveled what I thought was the 
ten miles, I inquired of the driver how much further it was 
to Jeddo. Instead of a smile, he said tAVO miles. At every 
rise of the road thereafter I expected to see the spires and 
hear the roar of the town. At times I thought I could de- 
tect the chimes of cathedral bells. I commenced to get so 
excited with the pleasant anticipation that I felt like jump- 
ing from the buggy and taking it on the run. 

As I began to think those two miles were the longest I 
ever experienced the driver brought his horse to a stop in 
front of a house which had for its companion a solitary 
barn. I asked him what he stopped for. He replied: 
^This is Jeddo City." I used to ^^buck the tiger" at the 
resorts along Broadway and there learned the art of being 
a good loser. That acquirement stood me in good stead. 
In a moment I smothered my surprise and disappointment 
and tried to play my part. I got out of the buggy, telling 
the driver to Avait a moment, and started for the house. T 
saw ''Post Office" on a board on the side of the house. I 
took the cue and inquired if there was any mail for me, 
and returned to the buggy, telling the driver that the man 
that I wanted to see had died the night before and we would 
return to Woodbine. 



26 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

If I had kept my mouth shut regarding my trip to 
Jeddo, nobody would have been any the wiser, but I told 
my friend Adams of the object of my visit to Jeddo, and 
^^By," ever after, used my Jeddo City experience as one of 
his stock stories, and the boys had many a ^'drive" at me. 
But when Bill Cuppy came back from Missouri, he told me 
the story of when ''By'' Avent to Shelby County to gather 
him in, and whenever ''By" Avould forget himself, and start 
that Jeddo City story, all I had to say was "Bill Cuppy,'^ 
and "By'' would change the subject. 

Before Adams started for Cuppy, friends told "By" he 
would never bring Cuppy back, and that he should be 
mighty careful not to let Cuppy get the drop on him, for 
Bill was a bad man. The story Bill told me Avas as follows : 
He knew he had been drafted and was expecting "By" any 
day. It was in the fall of the year and Cuppy had a corn 
field he was trying to husk out and expected to take a little 
trip thereafter, and was hoping that "By" would not show 
up until the work Avas done and he had gotten aAvay. One 
afternoon while Cuppy Avas working might and main rip- 
ping husks and throAving corn against the extra sideboard, 
he saw the smiling countenance of the deputy provost mar- 
shal coming down betAA een two rows of corn. The two men 
Avere acquainted, so the greeting was mutual. 

Cuppy explained the situation to "By," stating that he 
Avas perfectly willing to go back with him, but he was aAV- 
fully anxious to get that field of corn in the crib, and that 
it Avould take only another day's work. From Avhat they 
told "By" about Cuppy, the deputy provost marshal con- 
cluded that was an easy way out of it. For company's sake 
and to help matters along, "By," who was a good corn busk- 
er, took one row and Cuppy another. The next morning 
"By" was up bright and early ready to finish the job and 



FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 27 

start with his prisoner for Council Bluffs. The afternoon 
was nearly gone as the last ear of com was shoveled into 
the crib. ^^By'' agreed with a suggestion of Cuppy's, that 
they had better not start over the dreary waste between the 
Nishnabotna and Boyer rivers at that time of day. "By'' 
and Cuppy played cards until about midnight. As "By'' 
came down to breakfast the next morning, instead of meet- 
ing Cuppy, he found the following note at his plate: 

" 'By' — When we meet again, I shall insist on paying 
you for helping me husk out that field of corn. In haste, 

"Bill." 

It seems that while the deputy provost marshal was 
sweetly snoring the night away, Cuppy was behind his best 
span of horses heading for Missouri to make an old friend a 
long visit. 

"By's" story of the event didn't agree with Cuppy's, and 
I always thought that Cuppy's version of the circumstances 
of his arrest was told as a joke on the deputy provost mar- 
shal, as Bill Cuppy never ran away from anything, but 
there seemed to be enough in it to silence "By" when he 
opened up the Jeddo City story. 



28 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



CHAPTEK III. 

LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 

The spring, summer and fall were passed constructing 
the necessary buildings, getting together provender, and 
scouring with ^'By'' the western part of the State for stock 
as a starter. The fellow who made the statement that 
horseback riding was the best outdoor exercise of all, hit 
the bull's-eye plumb in the center. The pale, sickly law 
student from 49 Nassau Street, commenced to put on color. 
^^By" was constantly giving me pointers on the stock busi- 
ness. Gathering up steers here and there, and then trying 
to drive the bunch with every one of them wanting to bolt 
back home, keeps a fellow sliding on the saddle. For my 
health while in New York City I attended John Wood's 
gTmnasium on Twentj'-eighth Street, and rode horseback 
through Central Park; but trying to head a steer on the 
prairies of the West, for healthful exercise, takes the blue 
ribbon over all the gymnasiums and bridle paths in the 
universe. 

I will never forget the day that ^^By" and I were driving 
a bunch of stock, and he called my attention to a particular 
steer who kept craning his neck and looking back. ''By" 
told me that fellow would bolt before long, and wdien he 
did he would take after him and wind him, and I was to 
try and hold the rest of the lierd. Shortly, with tail in 



LIFE OX THE FKONTIKR. 



29 



the air, the animal whirled and bolted back over the prairie 
and disappeared over a hill with '"By" after him ^^ ith his 
stock whip circling in the air. I had little difficulty hold- 




This is "By." 

in,i>- the herd, as they were hnni>ry and commenced fcedinj::. 
1 rode to the top of the nearest hill to get a view of 
the process of winding a steer. Every once in a while 
among the hills I would catch a sight of ""By" and the 



30 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

steer and could hear the stock whip as it snapped pieces of 
hide from the animal's back. In about half an hour I saw 
the animal coming back with ''By" riding leisurely in the 
rear. The animal's tongue was hanging out about a foot. 
x\s we started the herd along, "By's" friend took the lead, 
and seemed willing to admit that the man on horseback is 
a dangerous proposition. 

One of the first acquaintances I formed in the West, of 
the animal kingdom, was the prairie wolf or coyote. The 
wolf has a few ideas worth taking note of. His den is a 
hole in the ground, but dug in such a way that neither the 
elements nor his enemies can get at him. He usually 
selects a side hill and digs a hole down about eight feet 
at an angle of forty-five degTees and then goes up about 
two feet and excavates the den. Here the little Avolves 
are born, but there is no ''little window where the sun 
comes peeping in at morn." When the rain comes it runs 
down the incline and at the bottom soaks away, but the 
den is high and dry, showing the wolf had a great head. 
If anything crawled down the hole, when it struck the 
angle the wolf would be above it, and it is generally the 
case in this world that the fellow who is on top when the 
row begins has the advantage, and the wolf family seem 
to be aware of that fact and build their habitations accord- 
ingly. 

My dog Texas and the wolves were great friends. Often 
about daybreak we would see the dog playing with the 
wolves along the Pigeon. One old wolf, in particular, and 
Texas deemed to be the best of friends; the wolf would 
chase the dog down the river bottom, and then "Old Tex," 
in turn, would chase the wolf, and then they would rear 
up and clinch. Thus would the wild and the tame meet 
on the level and act on the square. All "nature fakirs" 



LIFE OX THE FRONTIER. 



31 



agree that animals of similar species communicate with 
each other. I often wondered, as I saw "Tex'' and the wolf 
momentarily resting from the fati<»ue of the play, with their 
noses together, wliat they were saying. That is beyond the 




A Prairie Wolf. 

imagination to fathom, and what would I not have given 
to have had my curiosity satisfied! 

The saying "keep the wolf from the door" does not 
refer to the prairie species, for if there was ever a coward 
it is the prairie wolf. He never had sand enough to go 



32 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

near anybody's house, let alone the door, so if the bank 
account of any reader of this little yolume is nearing the 
zero mark and he sees a wolf heaye in sight, he need not 
worry if it is of the prairie species. 

Eyery animal has a means of defense, and the Supreme 
Being when he made a prairie wolf knew he was making 
a quitter, so he gaye him the most unearthly yell of all the 
four-footed animals. If you didn't kno\y there was a cow- 
ard back of that yell you might feel a little neryous. 
Shakespeare must haye had the prairie wolf in yiew when 
he coined the phrase, ^' Sound and fury signify nothing." 
If any college could get on to that yell, the others would 
certainly throw up the sponge. The prairie wolyes gen- 
erally trayel in pairs. They haye the habit at night of 
sitting on different hills and yelling Ayireless messages to 
each other, and, as the unearthly noise echoes and re- 
echoes among the hills, it is anything but a pleasant lullaby. 
The only time they sho\y any grit is when they are in a 
pack and half famished. I neyer knew of their killing 
a human being, but I don't know what might haye hap- 
pened to a mail-carrier on one occasion if some of my men 
and I had not dropped around at an opportune time. 

Before the days of the railroads the mail was carried 
across Iowa by relays. A relay was from one county seat 
to that of an adjoining one. The mail route between 
Harlan in Shelby Count}^ and Magnolia in Harrison Coun- 
ty, a distance of fifty miles, passed through my land. I 
was a little out of the direct line, but on account of a shal- 
low ford across the Pigeon Riyer, which ran through my 
place, the mail route made a slight detour. My place was 
about half way between Harlan and Magnolia, and the 
mail-carriers generally stopped with me for dinner, and 
I was glad they did, as they brought ^'the latest news 



LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 33 

from the front." The mail-carrier's outfit consisted of a 
horse and a buckboard. They generall}^ carried a half 
dozen pouches. Everybody in those days went armed, as 
bands of Indians occasionally circled around, and horse 
and cattle thieves were on the lookout to catch you nap- 
ping'. Colt's revolvers were the means of defense. 

One day when the carrier was due from the East, I was 
out with some of the boys in search of a couple of two-year- 
olds we hadn't seen with the herd for several days. We 
were leisurely loping along when off to the east on a divide 
about a mile away we saw the mail-carrier with his horse 
on the jump followed by a pack of wolves. We saw him 
throw something overboard, which stopped the pack for 
a minute or two. It was a mail bag. We started in full 
gallop for the ford, and as we came up the bank we saw 
the mail-carrier coming at breakneck speed down a long 
hollow leading to the ford, with the pack at his heels. It 
was lucky for him that his horse had good wind and was 
sure-footed, or it might have been a case for the coroner, 
although I believe if the fellow had stood his ground he 
might have scared them off. Where he made a mistake 
was that all he carried as a means of defense was an old 
horse-pistol. We fired our revolvers as we rode up the 
hollow, hoping to attract the attention of the wolves, which 
it seemed we did, for they slackened their pace and as we 
came up they slunk away. 

The horse was all foam and the carrier as white as a 
sheet. I helped him to the ranch, sending the boys back 
on the trail to gather up the scattered mail. That night 
the carrier told us he wouldn't cross that prairie again for 
the proceeds of all the star routes in the State. And, sure 
enough, that was his last trip. I didn't blame him, as it 
was a lonely twenty-five miles, without a habitation. He 



34 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 




LIFE UN THE FRONTIER. 35 

must have told the man who took his job of his experience, 
for when the new mail-carrier arrived his outfit looked 
like a battleship. He had ^uns and ammunition enough to 
kill all the wolves in the State. 

The fellow the wolves took after, told us the only thing 
that saved his life was that about a mile back from where 
we saw him he shot one of the wolves and the pack stopped 
to eat it up. It does seem that the saying ''dog eat dog" 
is ever being enacted. One would think that kind would 
protect kind, but it is not alwa^'s so with wild animals, or 
domestic, for that matter. Take even the poultry yard. 
Any breeder of poultry knows that if one of the birds gets 
sick or injured, the others pounce upon him. How care- 
fully the cow moose has to secrete the new-born from the 
murderous bull. The peacock who struts as the beautiful 
personified not only breaks up the nest and destroys the 
eoo's but kills the little ones. Humanitv for the moment 
stands aghast at such horrors, but how about this same 
humanity? Does the husband alwa^^s rejoice at the embryo 
and welcome the helpless one as it starts on the journey 
of life? How does the society lady treat her fallen sister? 
What do the men do to their former business associate as 
he starts down the toboggan? Yet we pose as teachers of 
the heathen ! 

Every good story having a Western brand was during 
the war repeated by the friends and enemies of Prcsid(Mit 
Lincoln as ''Old Abe's last.'' One of the stories appropri- 
ated as one of Abe's actually originated in the court house 
at Harlan, Shelby county, Iowa, and a lawyer by the name 
of Joe Smith was the originator. As already stated, my 
place on the Pigeon was about half wa}' between the county 
seats of Shelby and Harrison Counties. I often enter- 
tained the court and bar as they passcnl from one county 



tl6 WHEN THE \^'ILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

seat to the other. They were a witty and bright lot of fel- 
lows, but poor in purse. Their clothes had seen long 
service and represented all the styles before the war. Joe 
was a great wit, and, unfortunately, always broke. Once 
while attending court at Harlan and while waiting for 
his own case to be called, he got quite interested in the 
case which was being tried. The seat of the trousers of 
one of the attorneys who was trying the case was worn 
through, and as he wore a sack coat and while addressing 
the jury would lean forward, one could see through the 
hole in the trousers the white shirt within. A philanthropic 
brother attorney had drawn up a subscription paper and 
passed it around among the lawyers for signature, the 
purport of which was to buy the brother attorney a new 
pair of trousers. Seventy-fiYe cents in those days would 
have accomplished the mission. When it came Smith's turn 
to sign, he, being broke as usual, wrote the following en- 
dorsement on the subscription paper : ^'On account of my 
financial condition I am unable to contribute anything 
toward the object in view." 



REMINDERS OF BY-GONE DAYS. 37 



CHAPTER IV 

REMINDERS OF BY-GONE DAYS 

The government snrveyors laid out the prairie States 
like a checker board. One could have a cjood game of 
checkers on a map of the State of Iowa. Each square was 
six miles each way and contained thirty-six sections of 
land, and numbered from one to thirty-six, with six hun- 
dred and forty acres to a section. The squares runninG: 
North and South were called townships, and those running 
East and West were called ranges, both being numbered. 
Consecjuently, there was little difficult}^ locating a section 
of land. That is, the engineers, in laying it out, thought 
there would be none. The corner of each section and half 
section of land was marked by a surveyor's stake driven 
into the ground with the number of the section cut thereon. 
Before driving the stake, a mound was thrown up and a 
stake driven into the center of it, and to distinguisli a half 
section from a section corner, excavations were made either 
to the east or south of the mound as the case might be. Tlie 
surveyors overlooked the fact that prairie fires would burn 
off the stakes. They also forgot the existence of a little 
animal who passed under the name of a "prairie gopher.'^ 
The prairie gopher would throw up mounds galore simibir 
to those of tlie surveyors. Tlie result Avas, witli the Avooden 
stakes burnt off and mounds every wliere, hunting for a 



38 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

section or half section corner in that bare uninhabited re- 
gion was like hunting for the proverbial needle in the hay- 
stack. There was only one way out of the difficulty, and 
that was to find some established corner somewhere as a 
starter. It was the custom to go to the nearest settlement 
and commence operations from a known corner. Often 
the stakes were entirely rotted and the mounds washed 
away and the pits filled. Under these conditions, corners 
had to be established. Copies of the minutes of the gov- 
ernment survey, made years before, were in the hands of 
the county surveyor, and with patience and lots of stalk- 
ing, the desired corner was finally located. 

The surveyors as they laid out many of the Western 
States were not aware that they were creating a timepiece 
for the settler ever after. The sections were laid off ac- 
cording to the compass and as the Sun crossed the section 
lines running North and South the settler gauged the noon- 
day hour. Many farmers were too poor to own a watch and 
were thus able to tell the time of day with the section 
lines as a basis to work from. The width of the average 
human hand covers a passing hour. Extended about 
eighteen inches in front of the face and towards the Sun 
the space it occupies takes the golden orb an hour to pass. 
With the edge of the width of the human hand resting on a 
North and South section line, the number of widths until 
it cuts the Sun indicates the time of day. With the edge 
of the width of the hand resting on the horizon, the number 
of hours hio^h of the Sun is easilv ascertained. The old 
settler having been accustomed to judge the time of day 
by the Sun, a glance was all that was necessary. It was 
not an uncommon sight in the towns to see a farmer as ke 
would do his trading give an occasional glance at this time- 
piece, which never ran down, nor lost, nor gained. The 



REMINDERS OF KY-GONE DAYS. 30 

sa^'iiij]:, ^'Necessity is the inothcr of invention/' was likely 
coined on some isolated plain. The coniin<»- of the railroad 
also furnished the settler with a barometer. Whenever 
from my ranch we could hear the rumbling of the freipjht 
trains on the Northwestern, it was a sure indication of 
rain; Avhen we could not hear them it was a safe bet for 
fair weather. AVliile the weather prognosticator was right 
half the time, the old Northwestern never slipped a cog. 

What changed conditions I saw in the early settlers' 
means of transportation. What a transformation from the 
ox team and the solid wooden wheel to a span of horses and 
the spoked wheel wagon. What a difference walking along- 
side of a yoke of lumbering oxen with ^'Whoa ! haw ! Buck I" 
to sitting in a wagon guiding a free action team of horses 
with a pair of lines. The springless lumber wagon with a 
board for a seat was great for indigestion. The spring seat 
for the lumber wagon was the first harbinger of comfort 
for the earl}^ settler. The lucky farmer who had a spring 
seat for his wagon was the envy of the neighborhood. I 
will never forget the day that a man from Kacine, Wiscon- 
sin, drove through the neighborhood with a top buggy so- 
liciting purchasers. Young blood asserted itself and the 
lumber wagon Avith its spring seat was no longer "the 
head of the class.'' Top buggies, began to make their ap- 
pearance, and in turn the automobile has superseded the 
top buggy, and ere many years the aeroplane will be one of 
the necessary auxiliaries of a Western farmer's parapher- 
nalia. 

The Schutler wagon was one of the first and best that 
ever "clucked" over the Western prairies. Its manufac- 
turer was Peter Schutler of Chicago. It surpassed all other 
wagons in durability and strengtli. The reason for this was 
that nothing but perfectly seasoned timber entered into its 



40 WHEN THE WILDW OOD WAS IN FLOWER 

construction. The Schutler plant occupied the whole of 
one of Chicago's blocks. Shed after shed contained lumber 
stored until well seasoned. An emplo^^ee knew that if he 
was found using defective or unseasoned lumber, instant 
discharge followed. How different to-day ; a standing tree 
Monday morning, Saturday night a door, the following 
week a carpenter to plug the cracks. 

In the early settlement of the West, especially at the time 
of the country being railroaded, in many of the counties 
there arose the county seat question. The railroads left 
many of the old county seats miles away from the track. 
It seemed to be the universal opinion that a county seat 
should be located on the railroad. Immediately there be- 
gan a fight among the towns along the railroads as 
to which one should be the shire-town. In some of the 
counties the railroad traversed its whole width or length, 
and several railroad towns were established thereon. Har- 
rison County, Iowa, had its trouble with the rest. The 
Northwestern Railroad traveled the whole length of the 
county near its center and had four railroad towns. The 
old county seat. Magnolia, was left six miles from the 
railroad, so the verdict was unanimous that the county seat 
should be relocated. On account of the rivalry between the 
railroad towns. Magnolia remained the county seat long 
after the railroad was constructed. The county seat ques- 
tion overtopped all others at issue. Even politics had to 
take a back seat. We often hear the expression ^'fought 
like cats and dogs," but a cat and dog fight was a dead 
calm compared to the fights in old Harrison over the 
county seat question. It was fought out in churches, stores 
and bar-rooms, over the prairie and through the timber, 
up hill and down, afoot and on horse-back. Children, stock 
and crops were neglected, merchants fought with their cus- 



REMINDERS OF BY-GONE DAYS. 41 

tomers and ministers lost control of their flocks. Fathers 
ne.iilected to perform their marital duties, consequently the 
])opulation failed to increase, and those children who were 
l)orn were of a quarrelsome disposition. In fact, the ques- 
tion Avas demoralizing the county oyer. 

Eyery ^^ear a yote was taken without a majority for any 
town. Eyerybody commenced to realize that a state of 
anarchy would preyail, martial law be proclaimed and the 
militia called out if the question remained open. It was 
finally agreed that there should be a yote cast for the two 
toAyns that heretofore had receiyed the most yotes, and 
whicheyer one was beaten at the poles, peace would preyail. 
The election took place, but the yote was so close that botli 
sides alleged fraud, and claimed the election. The dispute 
was carried to the courts for final adjudication. A lawyer 
by the name of Joe Smith represented one of the towns. 
The town Smith appeared for was beaten, and as is gen- 
erally the case, Smith's client was dissatisfied, and its in- 
habitants jumped onto poor Joe. He was openly charged 
with selling out and branded a Benedict Arnold. They 
nicknamed Logan, the successful town, ^'Smithyille." 
After the excitement had subsided it was proyen and ad- 
mitted on all sides that Smith acted on the square. One 
of the most amusing episodes in connection with Smith 
and the county seat question occurred with a minister by 
the name of Burgess, who occasionally preached through- 
out the county. He eyidently had neyer met Smith but 
knew all about the county seat fight. Joe had the reputa- 
tion of being tlie best all around joker in the county, and 
neyer lost a chance eyen if on himself. Smith ]n\e\y Bur- 
gess by siglit. One awful hot day Smith was riding horse- 
back from ^Magnolia to Logan. Wlien about half way he 
caught up to Brother Burgess plodding along afoot. As 



AO 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 



Smith came up to Burgess he saw that the gentleman of 
the cloth looked tired, hot and dusty, and getting off his 
horse, offered it more as a joke than anything else to the 
minister to ride. Brother Burgess accepted Joe's inyita- 
tion and mounted the nag. Joe told Burgess he was an 




"Joe" Smith. 



entire stranger and inquired how far it was to Smithyille. 
The innocent preacher told Joe there was no such place as 
Smithyille, that the town he wanted to go to was Logan. 
Joe feigned surprise and informed the minister that a short 
way back a man told him the town was Smithyille. Bur- 



REMINDERS OF liY-GOXE DAYS. 43 

gess told Joe that the name Smithville was simply a nick- 
name they had for the town. Joe asked for an explanation, 
and he seemed to enjoy the story as the preacher recounted 
the charges against ''a lawyer by the name of Joe Smith." 
Here was poor Joe walking along the hot dusty road and 
hearing himself denounced by the rider of his ow^n horse. 
Burgess preached the next night in Logan and took for his 
text the seventh chapter of St. Matthew, 12th verse, 
and cited as an example his experience with Smith. The 
story was too good for Joe to keep, and poor Burgess was 
surprised and mortified when he learned who was the good 
Samaritan of the day before. 

We have all heard of bold bank robberies, but the most 
daring I ever heard of occurred at the noon hour many 
years ago at the banking house of Officer & Pusey, in Coun- 
cil Bluffs, Iowa. Throughout the West at that time, about 
everybody closed up shop to enjoy the noonday meal. The 
banks, as a general rule, kept open. I was a customer of 
Officer & Pusev. Business called me to Council Bluffs. It 
was during the noon hour that I arrived at the bank. The 
only occupant of the bank at that time was Mr. Pusey. He 
invited me inside of the counter. I had been sitting there 
but a few moments Avlien a stranger, at least to me, and he 
seemed to be to Mr. Pusey, entered the bank and engaged 
Mr. Pusey in conversation. He claimed he had some money 
that he wanted to deposit, and kept on presenting all kinds 
of propositions to Mr. Pusey regarding interest on the 
same. As we afterwards learned, he was simply trying to 
attract Mr. Pusey's attention. While ^Ir. Pusey and his 
customer were discussing the transaction, I was reading a 
newspaper. I heard a little noise in the direction of the 
safe, and turning around, I saw a man with moccasins on 
his feet in a crouching position with his ear to the dial. 



44 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 



turning it around while trying to catch the combination. 
I understand that an expert can work out a combination if 
given time. A whole lot of things happened in the next mo- 
ment. I called Pusey's attention to the fellow at the safe. 
Pusey's customer gave a signal and started on the run for 




Where the Burglars Tried to Work Pusey and His Combination. 

the street. The man who was at the safe made a bolt for 
the back door, where he had entered unobserved. Pusey 
gave a j^ll, jumped the counter and rushed to the street 
yelling, "Stop that man I" United States Marshal Chap- 
man was passing the bank at the time and also gave chase, 



remim)]:r.s of by-gone days. 45 

but the robbers escaped. Aroiiiid tlie corner was a two- 
horse ri"' hired from one of tlie local livery stables, in 
charj>e of a third party? Before the posse headed by Mr. 
Chapman could get ready, the robbers were well on their 
way up Indian Creek. Just beyond Lovekmd's ^lill the 
posse came to the deserted livery rig and there lost the 
trail. 

But the gang were finallj^ caught, and it was ''By" Mc- 
Arthur, sheriff of Harrison County, who corraled the out- 
fit. He was in Missouri Valley when he received a dispatch 
recounting what had taken place. The news soon became 
public property. McArthur was informed by a Mr. Hoover, 
a stock man, that about an hour before he had seen a man 
in a clump of trees southeast of old St. John guarding some 
horses. McArthur at once surmised that they were the 
robbers' horses. Hastily swearing in some deputies, they, 
with Hoover as a guide, started on the gallop for the clump 
of trees. McArthur arrested the man in charge of the 
horses and waited for the Council Bluffs delegation. The 
sheriff did not have long to wait; instead of the robbers 
meeting their pal, McArthur and his posse were the com- 
mittee on reception. The man McArthur first arrested 
turned State's evidence, and the other three were tried and 
convicted at the next term of court of Pottawattamie 
County. For the following five years, instead of trying to 
work the combination of the safes in Council Bluffs, ^Ir. 
Pusey's guests were working the stone yard at Fort ^ladi- 
son. Mr. Pusey afterward stated that at the same time the 
day before a stranger had entered the bank with similar 
propositions. Mr. Pusey had no doubt whatever that at 
the time a man was at the safe trving to work the combi- 
nation, and the customer had held ^Iv. Pusey's attention as 
long as he dared. About two months before the Pusey epi- 



46 WHEN THE WILDWOOD \YAS IN FLOWER 

sode occurred, the First National Bank had been robbed of 
|20,000 in some mysterious way. Mr. Pusey and other 
bankers smiled whenever the First NationaPs loss was men- 
tioned; in fact, they as good as stated that the First Na- 
tionaFs loss was a defalcation, they trying to cast discredit 
on that institution to their own advantage. But after the 
incident occurred that I mention in connection with Officer 
& Pusey's bank, the loss of the First National was easily 
explained. 

Horse stealing was not an uncommon occurrence in the 
West during the early sixties. It was during the time that 
I was running my ranch that horse stealing became one of 
the lost arts. The "unwritten law'' for horse stealing was 
hanging as soon as caught to the nearest tree. I partici- 
pated in the hanging of one of the first horse thieves in our 
section of Iowa. The victim was caught with "the goods" 
while camping in a little clump of trees near Honey Creek 
in Pottawattamie County. With the placard "horse thief" 
tied around his neck his body was suspended from a tree 
by a wire and hung there until his clothes rotted and the 
flesh fell from the bone. For many years afterward that 
clump of trees was known as "Horse Thief Grove." With 
what neatness and dispatch a horse thief got his deserts. 
How different from the custom of the East both in applica- 
tion and results. It was the custom where I came from, 
after arresting a horse thief and while he was waiting for a 
Grand Jury to indict, for him to partake of the viands 
and recline on a comfortable bed at the expense of the 
county in which he stole the horse, and continue to be its 
guest until court convened. Able lawyers were either em- 
ployed or assigned to defend him, and after the jury had 
brought in a verdict of "guilty," the case was carried to a 
higher court and sent back for a new trial on the ground 



RKMINDEKS OF KY-GONE DAYS. 47 

that in the judge's charj»e to the jury the court erred in 
using the word ''off'' instead of ''from." Before the second 
trial came around, the main prosecuting witness had died 
of old ai»e and tlie horse thief was accjuitted for lack of 
evidence and turned loose to continue his former vocation. 

One of my neij^hbors was a man by the name of Braden. 
He was there loni»' before I arrived. His home was a ''dug- 
out," a large excavation in a side hill. There, with two or 
three helpers, his life was spent. His sole occupation was 
raising circus horses. The handsome and peculiar marked 
horses of the circuses to-day trace their blood to the Braden 
breed of horses that roamed in the sixties over the prairies 
of Harrison and Shelby counties, Iowa. Agents from the 
great circuses constantly visited Braden to supply their 
shows with fancy colored stock. Stallions, brood mares 
and colts roamed at will over that vast expanse. None of 
them was even halter-broken. They were really a band 
of wild horses. Braden always kept a supply of rock salt 
near his ranch Avhich brought the herd around at stated in- 
tervals. It was a hopeless task hunting for the herd, and 
prospective buyers would stop with Braden in his hut until 
the herd made its accustomed round. All the settlers 
raised horses, and for the lack of yards they were turned 
loose to roam with the Braden gang. They stuck together, 
for horses like individuals soon learn that numbers are 
the source of protection. One of the peculiarities of a horse 
is that night is the time he roams; what little rest he 
takes is in the day. One of the grandest sights I ever saw 
was on a moonlight night as the Braden gang of horses on 
the run passed up the valley of the Pigeon. As the moon 
shone on the vari(\gated colors they looked like the cliarge 
of some ghostly cavalry. 

The Braden gang of horses were constantly being dimin- 



48 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWER 



ished bj the horse thief, but a fight that took place on the 
head waters of the Pigeon in the summer of eighteen sixty- 
nine in a measure blue-penciled that occupation. While I 
was entertaining at dinner old Braden and one William 
Cuppy, mentioned aforesaid, the mail-carrier from the 
East came in and reported seeing some horse thieves run- 




Braden in His Younger Days. 



iiing the Braden gang. When he saw the herd it was cross- 
ing the Mosquito River and heading West pursued by the 
horse thieves. Braden proposed to intercept them. He 
calculated that the herd would head for home and cross 
the Pigeon at its head waters. As both Cuppy and my- 



REMINDERS OF BY-GONE DAYS. 



49 



yelf had horses running with the Braden ganp:, Ave 
readilj' accepted the proposition. AYith two of my 
helpers, Braden, Cnppy and myself started on horse- 
back up the valley of the Pigeon. We were all armed with 
Colt's revolvers. As we came in sight of Hall's Grove, 





When the Wildwood Was in Flower. 



Avhich is near the head waters of the Pigeon, we saw the 
herd heading Southwest towards the Braden corral. A 
little curl of smoke was seen ascending from the grove. 
We surmised that the horse thieves had stopped for some- 
thing to eat. As we started down the hollow, which led to 



50 



WHEN 



riLDWOOD ^yAS 



FLOWER 



the grove, we could see some of Braden's horses straining 
at the end of lariats. Braden was a man of powerful 
physique, being over six feet tall, built in proportion and 
fearing nothing. The sight fired the old man to fury. With 
a revolver in each hand and his horse on the jump, down 
the incline toward the grove old Braden went. Cuppy, 
the helpers and myself followed. All but Braden dis- 
mounted and fought the horse thieves from behind horses 
and trees, but the old man stayed in the saddle. About all 
we could see of him was his bald head dodging around 
amongst the brush. With such a target, how he ever es- 
caped with his life has always been a mystery to me. When 
the ^'smoke of battle" cleared away, two of the horse thieves 
lay dead on the ground, the others escaping over the 
prairie. Braden was shot twice and also one of the helpers, 
all flesh wounds. The uninjured helper was up in "first aid 
to the injured," and he bound up Braden and the other 
helper's wounds, and we headed for Doctor Cole's home, in 
the Boyer valley, twenty-five miles away. The fight at 
Hall's Grove was passed along the line, and from that time 
on horse thieves gave the Braden gang of horses a clear 
course. As settlers poured in and spools of barbed wire 
were unwound along the section lines cutting off the range, 
the old man saw his occupation gone and retired to his hut 
to die, and the "Braden gang of horses" became a memory. 



WINTER ON THE PRAIRIE. 51 



CHAPTER V. 

WINTER ON THE PRAIRIE. 

Those who never passed a Avinter on a Western prairie 
have but a faint idea of the meaning of the word. One of 
the coldest and severest I ever passed was when I was 
major of AYoodbine. The mercury sank into the bulb of 
the customary thermometer, and it required a spirit ther- 
mometer to register the cold. One night it touched forty- 
four degrees below zero. Clerks who slept in the stores 
froze their ears while in bed. Wooden sidewalks lined 
the streets of the town; all through the night there was 
a fusilade of thuds sounding like shots from muffled guns. 
It was the nails springing from the boards, caused by the 
intense cold. It was that night and the thermometer at 
the hotel where I stopped, which formed the foundation 
of the story about the nail freezing off on which hung the 
thermometer. It seems the nail shot out, the thermometer 
falling to the ground. ''Sun dogs'' accompanied the sun 
by day, and the northern lights the stars bj^ night. 

The greatest sufferers on the frontier from the winter 
blasts were the four-footed animals, on account of the lack 
of protection. It was all the newly arrived immigrants 
could do to find shelter for themselves, let alone the stock. 
I have had calves born in cornfields when it was twenty 
below zero. The little ones seemed to weather the con- 



52 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 




The Author, When Mayor of Woodbine, Iowa. 



ditions, though often losing their tails. Worse than the 
clear cold were the blizzards. They were the boys that 
made ''Kome howl." Neither Webster's nor Worcester's 



WINTER ON THE PRAIRIE. 53 

dictionaries contain words wliicli can do jnstice in describ- 
in,i>' a Western blizzard. The nearest bnilding to my liouse 
was within about two hundred and fifty feet. The duration 
of a blizzard is generally three days. In one particular 
blizzard lasting- tlie usual limit I never once caught sight 
of that building. 

I still remember a snow storm which, covered to the 
depth of about three feet a hog lot in which there were 
over one thousand hogs. In looking over that mantle of 
snow no one would have surmised that thereunder were 
over one thousand hogs peacefully snoring the happy hours 
away. The evening before was unusually warm, and the 
hogs went to sleep in the open lot. During the night it 
grew cold and the snow began falling, but the hog, being 
one of the laziest animals on earth, hugged the ground. In 
the morning, with scoop shovels, we dug them out. In 
digging down, as we would strike a hog the fellow would 
give an angry snort, as if to say, ''Why the devil can't you 
let a fellow alone?" After a blizzard was over the first 
navigators were men on foot, then came the man on horse- 
back, and then the sleigh. Sometimes during the blizzard 
the herd would break from the corral and go with the 
storm, often perishing in their tracks. 

The fuel question to the early settler was an important 
one. Those who settled in or near the groves, which were 
scattered over the State, ran no risk while supplying the 
wood pile. But the settler, whose earthly possessions were 
out on the isolated storm-swept prairies, had a different 
problem to contend with. It Avas in the winter tlfat the iso- 
lated settler got up his wood for the following summer. 
He had no time in summer to chop it, let alone hauling it 
from the grove. In winter, it was an everyday sight, no 
matter what the weather conditions, to see many callous- 



54 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 



handed sons of toil heading for the groves. Those winter 
trips for firewood were a continual nightmare to the early 
settlers. It was a Avinter's job to supply the spring, sum- 
mer and fall firewood. Therefore, no matter what the 
weather conditions, off to the timber was the one daily oc- 
cupation. Neither the intense cold of the Northwest, nor 




The Author's Residence, Great Neck, Long Island, N Y. 



even the blizzards, could retard us. Many a settler lost his 
life while breasting the storms for his wood supply. 

I had one experience that nearly cost me my life and 



WIXTKR ON THE TRAIRIE. 55 

that of one of my men, and four horses. Two feet of snow 
was on the ground and overhead was one of those leaden 
skies that denoted an approaching storm, as I and one of 
my men started for tlie timber. We had gotten the load 
chopped and commenced loading it as the snow commenced 
fallino'. At every moment tlie storm incrc^ased. Bv the 
time we had emerged from the grove, and struck out on the 
open prairie, the blizzard was on, but fortunately the wind 
was at our backs. The snow fell so thick that we could 
hardly see the leaders. I was driving and learned on that 
trip that in a storm if you give a horse his head he will 
generally land you at home. I thought I knew the road 
better than the leaders, and Avhile they were continually 
pulling on one line, I was pulling on the other, and the 
result was I pulled them off the divide which led toward 
home and the horses got lost with the rest of us. I knew 
that we had traveled fully as far as would have taken us 
home, and as darkness came on, Ave realized that we were 
lost. AVe unhitched the horses from the load, unharnessed 
them, piled the harness on the load of wood, turned two of 
the horses loose, and mounted the other two. We soon lost 
sight in the storm of the two horses we had turned loose. 
Our mounts struck out, and I hoped toward home, but they 
evidently had lost their bearings. The only thing that 
saved our lives was that the storm ceased at midnight. 
The clouds cleared aAvay and left us as clear a sky as I ever 
saw. The snow had frozen our clothes, the horses' hair 
was coA^ered with frost, and we looked like ghosts on horse- 
back. We were so cold we could not stand riding any 
further and dismounted. Our hands Avere so cold we could 
not lead the horses, so we turned them loose, but they fol- 
lowed us, the animal instinct telling them that in difficul- 
ties look to human kind for protection. 



56 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

It was the practice in those days for tlie isolated settlers 
on the prairies on the stormy nights in winter to keep a 
light burning in some conspicuous window the night 
through, to guide anyone who might be lost. We wallowed 
our way to the highest hill and scanned the horizon like 
mariners at sea looking for a beacon light. Bill Kumsey, 
a conductor on one of the first freig-ht trains that went over 
tlie Northwestern, west of Boone, had presented me with 
a red lantern, and that lantern was my beacon light. Peary 
was no happier as he stood at the North Pole than I 
was when I saw off to the Northwest about ^Ye miles away 
a red light. We made a bee-line for it with the two horses 
following. We wallowed through snow drifts to our arm- 
pits, pitched headlong into gulleys filled with snow, waded 
waist deep in slush while crossing creeks and slues, crawled 
on our hands and knees up rough brakes on hill tops, 
rolled over and over down inclines, and were constantly in 
fear of our lives from the close proximity of the stumbling 
horses. As the first streak of daylight Avas coming, we soon 
recognized the old familiar landmarks, which led to the 
Pigeon Valle}^, and had no difficulty the balance of the way. 
The two horses we first turned loose had arrived ahead of 
us, and the load of Avood Avas located the folloAving day. 

The railroads over the prairies had their experience 
also with the beautiful snoAV. Before the time of snow 
fences the trains Avere often stuck in the cuts. I remember 
after one storm, in particular, that the NortliAVCAVstern 
ncA^er turned a Avheel for three AA^eeks. I saw a freight train 
of forty cars in a cut completely covered over, Avith nothing 
in sight but the smokestack of the locomotive. The train- 
men had retreated to the nearest farm house. I have 
heard of a span of horses coming into toAvn with the driver 
sitting upright in the seat, reins in hand, frozen to death. 



WINTER ON THE PRAIRIE. 



Oi 



I have no doubt whatever that in the intense cold of the 
Northw est a human being- can freeze to death without the 
least pain and not knowing he is freezing. With one of 
my men I had an experience that would conlirni that opin- 
ion. While operating my stock ranch the territory over 
which I had absolute ownership consisted of two square 




First Touch of Winter on the Northwestern. 

miles. The buildings were on the southerly end of the 
property. That particular winter several stacks of hay 
Avere at the northern end of the ranch. On account of a 
scarcity of hay at the feed yards I and one of the men 
started for the other end for liay. Tliere was two feet 
of snow on the g^round, the Avind was in the north, and it 
was twenty-live below zero. A luiy-rack is as Avell ven- 
tilated a convevance as anv fresh-air liend could desire. 



58 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

While going up we sat opposite each, other. A white spot 
would commence to show itself on my face and my man 
would say, ''Mr. Stanton, your left cheek is freezinc:.'' A 
rubbing would restore circulation. The next minute I 
would see some part of his face turn white. ''Dick, your 
right ear is freezing," and that was the condition oyer the 
two miles ; but when we arriyed at the hay-stack and got 
alongside of it with the horses' noses to the south, you 
would haye thought we had gone crazy the way we jumped 
into that stack. It was either work or freeze. As we tray- 
eled back with our circulation restored, the wind at our 
backs, the sun shining down upon us as we hugged into 
the hay, we could hardly realize that a few moments before 
we were actually freezing and didn't know it. 

Being a loyer of animals, nothing disturbed my slum- 
bers more than when one of those terrific blizzards was on, 
for I would realize the suffering of those dumb animals 
who looked to me for protection. No matter how much 
lumber and nails you used, those awful winds would find 
an opening; eyen a knot-hole seemed to be enough At 
last I solyed the problem, and my scheme was followed 
by all my neighbors. Instead of stacking my small grain 
in the fields where it was cut and thrashing it there, and, 
as was usually the custom, burning the straw, I had the 
bulk of the unthrashed grain hauled to one of the cattle- 
3^ards and stacked alongside of a pole-shed I erected. I 
selected a ley el place about forty feet square and built a 
shed of heayy forked poles about ten feet long, set them 
in the ground about three feet, and about ten feet apart, 
laid poles and brush across the top, and, with the excep- 
tion of a narrow entrance in the southern exposure, board- 
ed the shed on the outside. When the grain was thrashed 
we set the thrashing machine so that the strawy-carrier 



WINTER OX THE PRAIRIE. 59 

^vas over the shed. After the grain was thrashed, the 
straw covered the shed to the depth of, say, twenty feet, 
and at least fifteen feet thick all around it. No wind could 
penetrate fifteen feet of straw. Looking at that immense 
straw pile one would little surmise that in the center of it 
was a shed forty feet square and seven feet in the clear. 
With the exception of the entrance I built a barbed-wire 
fence around the straw pile. With the boards on the inside 
and the fence on the outside, the cattle could not disturb 
the straw. When the blizzard was on I knew that at least 
some of my cattle were as comfortable as myself, and as 
I would look out of the entrance of my straw pile shed at 
the howling blizzard I could realize the protection and com- 
fort of the Esquimaux in his hut in the frozen north. 

As one rode over the prairies of western Iowa in the 
earlv sixties he could see the bones of wild animals that 
had become extinct. Frequently you would see the horns 
of deer nearly consumed b^^ time and the devastating 
prairie fire. Up to and during the early fifties, herds of 
buffalo, elk and deer reamed over western Iowa and east- 
ern Nebraska, contiguous to the Missouri River, but the 
terrific winters of the middle fifties drove the buffalo to- 
ward the foothills of the Rockies, and exterminated the 
elk and deer. One of the winters of the middle fifties was 
known for years as "the Avinter of the deep snow." The 
snow was so deep and fell so level that the deer were un- 
able to reach food or shelter, and became an easy prey to 
man, but more particularly to the wolves. The Avolves 
could skip over tlie crust of snow while the poor aninml, 
with its sharp hoofs, would break through to its belly and 
become an easy prey. The buffalo was also exterminated, 
not bv the elements, but bv man. Thousands were killed 



60 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



simply for their skins. Man is forever hunting the wild, 
often simply for its head, skin or plumage, and where 




Would I Were on the Plains Again. 

there are no wild animals to kill or pelts to obtain he then 
turns on his fellow man, and tries to remove the hide from 
him. 



RUNNING A STOCK RANCH 61 



CHAPTER VI. 

RUNNING A STOCK RANCH. 

It was while I was in Iowa that the transformation 
came in tlie harvestinc: of small orain. I saw the trans- 
formation from the cradle, not to the grave, but to the self- 
binder. The advent of the railroad brought us the modern 
machinery. The cradle was laid aside for what was known 
as the dropper, a machine Avliich cut the small grain, it 
falling on to a wicker platform, and when of sufficient 
quantity to make a bundle the driver would drop the 
platform and the grain slid off. It required six men 
to keep the grain bound up, before the next round. The 
next improvement was the ^larsh harvester. With that 
machine three men accomplished what it took seven witli 
the dropper. The three men rode on the machine. The 
^larsh harvester cut the grain, elevated it to a scoop re- 
ceptacle, alongside of which stood two of the men on a 
platform binding the grain. The next machine and the 
most complete that any one could desire was the self- 
binder. Think of driving into a field of grain with a ma- 
chine that a boy could handle, which Avould cut the grain, 
elevate it into a receptacle, circle each bundle as it formed 
with twine, tie the twine into a knot, cut the twine an<l 
throw the bundle, tightly bound, clear of the machine, and 
immediately repeat the operation; such was the self-binder. 



G2 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



What a godsend to the "women folks" was the self- 
binder ! In the days of the dropper they had to bake bread 
for a week, kill all the chickens on the place, and peel a 
barrel of potatoes to feed a lot of hungry harvesters. With 
the self-binder there were only the regular household, no 
transient guests. Many a bright summer's morning I have 
driven into a field of yellow grain with my self-binder, with 




A Self-binder. 



the ribbons over three horses abreast, comfortably 
seated in a cushioned seat with a canopy to protect me 
from the hot rays of the sun, ^^itli a long straw, I on 
one end and an occasional mint julep on the other, and, 
before the sun went down, with the aid of one of the boys, 
put twenty-five acres of grain into the shock, and never 
turned a hair. 

As the great prairies began to settle up, and the range 



RT'NMNG A STOCK RANCH. 63 

cut off, the day of pjrass-fed cattle saw its finish. Corn- 
fed steers came instead. Thousands of acres of prairie 
were broken up, corn planted, and the cattle yarded to be 
fattened and shipped to the Eastern markets. Absolutely 
nothing but corn was fed. It was fed in the ear, broken 
about twice in two and fed in a larj^e box, similar to a table 
and about as hi<>h. The droppings from the cattle were as 
yellow as corn meal ; in fact, it was ground corn, so to 
speak. In all feed-3^ards there were twice the number of 
hogs as of cattle ; the hogs were fattened from the droppings 
of the steers. We calculated what passed through one 
steer would fatten two hogs. The cattle ate the corn, 
the hogs the droppings, and Aye ate the hogs. 

The feed-lot was the cause of the dehorning of cattle. 
As it is with humanity, about eyery other steer wanted his 
share and part of the other fellow's, and some, after they 
had eaten all they could, tried to keep the others away. 
The result was they were continually prodding each other, 
and dehorning was a necessity for fattening purposes. It 
was also a godsend to the shipper. The dehorning process 
was simply to run the steers into a shute that narrowed 
as it led on to where only one steer could stand. We would 
then clap a clamp oyer his neck, and, with a common hand- 
saw, saw his horns off close to the head. I was not aware 
of the anatomical formation, so far as the horn is con- 
cerned, of the head of cattle until after I had done my 
first dehorning. I Ayas riding oAer the range shortly before 
sundown a few days after some dehorning, and as I glanced 
at a steer I saw the sun right through his head. It seems 
the horn of cattle is hollow; that is, there is simply a pith 
in it. Sometimes the pith dries up. In the case of this 
animal the pith had fallen out, leaying a hollow through 
his head. I haye heard of "the wind blew through his whis- 



64 



WHEN THE WILD WOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



kers," but I never saw a case before where it blew through 
his head. That steer should never get excited, as the Avind 
blowing through his head would certainly keep his brain 
cool. 

How much pleasanter it is to handle an intelligent ani- 
mal than a stupid one. What a difference there is between 



x^: 








The Beef Trust Will Get the Profit. 



a horse and a horned animal. Though the ground is cov- 
ered with snow the horse has intelligence enough to know 
that there is plenty of feed underneath, and paws to it, 
but the cattle will stand and starve to death. It used to 
make me so mad that I felt like grabbing them by the 
horns and shoving their heads down to the grass. 

In my life on the prairies, where neighbors were few 
and far between, the most dangerous element to contend 



KUJS'MAG A «TOCK KANCH. G5 

witli was the prairie fires. In my boyhood days, as a 
hunter in tlie Adirondacks, I learned never to pjo into the 
North Woods without a <>uide. In the fall of the year 
never oo out on the prairies of the West Avithout a match. 
Many a time while traveling- afoot, horseback or in my old 
Schutler wa^on, I saved my life when I saw a prairie fire 
comino- by settino' fire to the orass and drivinj]: on to the 
burned portion. There is nothinii: more entrancing- than 
to watch a prairie fire, especially at night, yet it is any- 
thino- but entrancing when it is coming with a high wind 
toward your earthly iDossessions. I have lost miles of 
fence and hundreds of tons of hay through prairie fires, 
and have back-fired against it and fought it up hill and 
down twenty-four hours at a stretch. 

What a drearv waste back in the early sixties was the 
country west of the Mississippi River! Miles upon miles 
of unoccupied land with not a tree to break the monotony 
of that undulating plain. The only timber in Iowa was a 
fringe along the river bank and here and there a grove. 
God provided for the early settlers, where fuel was con- 
cerned, by allowing an occasional grove of timber to escape 
the devastating fire of the prairie. The early inhabitants 
of Iowa settled in or near the groves. The cold winters 
necessitated this. Before the advent of the railroad the 
fuel question Avas an important one. On the plains of 
Nebraska there was no timber. The Lord evidently had 
no idea anybody would settle there. The early settlers 
in that State set aside a field of corn for fuel. There is 
worse fuel than ear corn. On the advent of the railroads, 
coal became the universal fuel. As the great prairie set- 
tled up, groves of trees were planted and hedges set out, 
and that barren Avaste of the sixties was transformed into 
a beautiful wooded landscape. 



66 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

About the only recreation of the farmer on the Western 
prairie was to go to town. With the tired housewife and 
little ones tucked in a wagon, off they would go. The town 
was the Casino of the farmer. It was the meeting place 
of the isolated settlers. On all the holidays the farmers 
went to town. All kinds of excuses were offered to ^'get 
to go" to town. I recall that the whole countryside went 
to town one day to see the eclipse of the sun. With the 
coming of the iron horse came the styles from the East, 
the mone} -shark, and discontent. In the good old days 
everybody was contented. Mortgages, a stranger in the 
land heretofore, began to appear on the records. On my 
way to town one day I met one of the old settlers, who 
said : ''Well, Stanton, I have mortgaged the farm to one 
of them 'ere mone^^ critters. I had to j)ay ten per cent, 
interest, by gosh! and a bonus, I think they called it, to 
git the money. Betsey said she wouldn't wear that darned 
old sunbonnet to town again. My boy told me he would 
leave the farm if I didn't get him a top-buggy to take his 
gal out riding, and our little girl has cried ever since she 
see'd that young lady git off the cars at Woodbine with 
them high-heel shoes and a feather in her hat. AA'ell, I 
be dog-goned, Stanton, if I ain't going to see some of this 
life with the rest on 'em." 

In the groves of timber scattered throughout the State of 
Iowa, the All-seeing One provided fuel for the earlier set- 
tler. It was the custom that each settler should have the 
privilege of owning a sufficient acreage in the groves for his 
wants in the fuel line, and it was the unwritten law that 
those who owned more of the grove than they absolutely 
needed were compelled to sell the newcomer a portion of 
their holdings. If some Rockefeller had come sailing along 
in the early days of Iowa, lie would likely have formed a 



RUXMNG A STOCK. RANCH 67 

Stock foiupanv to acquire the groves of tlie State,and would 
have had the settlers where the Standard Oil Company has 
the people of this country at the present time. Some 
Rockefeller might have tried the game, but he wouldn't 
have found the submissive individual of to-day, nor would 
he have found corrupt legislators to enact, nor courts to 
construe, the law to his liking, but he would have found a 
note in his morning mail notifying him that it would be 
beneficial for his health if he took a change of venue and to 
be quick about it. 

The "Co-operation Society" of Six :\rile Grove, in which I 
was interested, demonstrated the fact that a "holding com- 
pany'' is not absolutely essential for the success of an en- 
terprise. If commercialism as practiced to-day had been 
in esse in the early days of Iowa, how natural it would have 
been for one of these "Xapoleons of finance" to have cor- 
nered the groves of Iowa and made the poor settler of the 
sixties pay tribute, so this "successful" business man could 
travel in European waters in his yacht, his daughter marry 
a prince, and his son by a display of the predatory wealth 
of the parent demoi-alize the youth of the land. 

The West should insist on constitutional conventions to 
revise the National and State constitutions, so that tlie 
people can bring.them up to date, and brush aside the old 
theories and provisions under which the robber Barons 
hang on to their ill-gotten gains. What does the Standard 
Oil crowd care if you dissolve their corporations so long as 
you do not wrest from them their money? So revise the 
Statute Law that the government or any citizen can brinir 
an action against any wrong-doer for-a readjustment of his 
affairs, in which action, on proof that the defendant has 
acquired any i)ortion of his wealth by fraud, the coAirt 
shall have the power to decree that all of his wealth shall 



68 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

be turned into the public treasury ; and that no Statute of 
Limitations shall apply to such an action. 

The courts have decided that the various Standard Oil 
companies are illegal combinations. The law should be 
that all malefactors who have acquired wealth through 
those companies must disgorge. 

If the malefactors cry ''confiscation," let the people an- 
swer, ''No, simply an equitable, moral readjustment." 

On account of the long distance to the towns, keeping the 
larder supplied was one of the problems constantly con- 
fronting us. It was fifteen miles from my ranch to the 
nearest town. Having to make a round trip of thirty miles 
to supply our wants, it necessitated our keeping a close 
watch on the "trestle-board.'' I remember once having 
to make the thirty miles simply for a* match. Forever after 
that trip, a piece of pasteboard was hung up in the dining- 
room; whenever any one discovered that anything was 
needed its name was written on the pasteboard, so when 
the usual .trip was made to town the "score card" would 
show what was required. 

Until I went to Iowa I thought the Sun, as regards vege- 
tation, was more important than the Moon, but I soon 
learned that the Moon was the "cock of the walk." The 
Moon seemed to regulate everything. During the planting 
season about all vou heard was "the full of the :Moon," 
^'the dark of the Moon" and other moonshines. On one of 
my trips to Woodbine, I met a neighbor with his horses on 
the jump for home. I inquired what was the matter, and 
he yelled back the Moon fulled at six o'clock and he must 
get those potatoes in before that hour or they would all 
run to vines. One of my neighbors had it so badly that he 
actually told me that one of his children was doomed to be 



RUNNING A STOCK RANCH 69 

unlucky all its life as it Avas boru at the wrong time of the 
Moon. 

There were two rules Avhich ever^'body followed — never 
pass a rattlesnake without killing it, and when you went 
to town call for your neighbor's mail. I use the word 
neighbor, but it hardly applies to the situation, as the 
word "neighbor" with me covered a circuit of forty miles 
in diameter. I was amused at a remark a fellow made 
when I settled on the Pigeon. II is nearest "neighbor'' was 
fourteen miles away. My location was about six miles from 
him, whereupon the fellow made the remark : "Well, I 
guess I will have to move; neighbors are getting too thick.'' 
Speaking of rattlesnakes, the Indian was the only indi- 
vidual who let the rattlesnakes alone. The rattlesnake 
will ahvays give you warning, and will not attack you un- 
less first attacked. The Indian seemed to appreciate these 
tw'o cardinal virtues of the rattlesnake. The bite of the 
rattler is deadly poison, and an antidote is necessary to 
save life. Whiskey was as good an antidote as one could 
take, and no larder was complete without it. A weakness 
of one of my neighbors was partaking too freely of the "Oh, 
be joyful"; in fact, he was under the influence more times 
than over it. Yet he offered a very sensible excuse : "You 
see, boys, it is this way. When one of you fellows gets 
stung with a rattler you rush all over the neighborhood, 
losing lots of time, hunting for whiskey, and often die be- 
fore you get it; but when a rattler jumps me, the remedy 
is already there, and I keep'right on plowing." Mud is also 
a remedy. I recall one time visiting an isolated stock 
ranch, and, as Ave approached, Ave saAV the only herder in 
a peculiar position on the ground. As we came up to 
him he had one leg bare to the knee in a hole in the ground, 
with a pail of Avater beside him, and he Avas tamping wet 



70 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

dirt around the leg. He had been bitten by a rattler and 
was applying the only remedy at hand. 

In the fall follo^^'ing my arrival in the Hawkeye State, 
there was a hot political contest going on, and I attended 
one of the meetings at Harlan, the county seat of Shelby 
County. Speaking of Harlan, I will never forget the way 
they distributed the mail. The post office was in the hotel 
where I stopped. The ^'post office" consisted of two dry 
goods boxes, one where you deposited the mail and the 
other where you got it. When the mail-carrier arrived, he 
would hand the pouch to the postmaster, who was the 
proprietor of the hotel, also hostler and waiter combined. 
The combination postmaster, proprietor, hostler and waiter 
would dump the mail into one of the boxes, and whenever 
a citizen called for his mail, he would dig into the dry 
goods box, look over its contents and take what mail be- 
longed to him, and thus the mail in the early sixties was 
distributed in the shire-town of Shelby County. 

I naturally have heard in my life many political issues 
discussed, but I never heard of a nightshirf 15eing an issue 
until that night at Harlan. There was a joint debate be- 
tween the two opposing candidates for representative in 
the legislature. The district generally went Republican. 
The Democratic candidate was a farmer, the Republican 
candidate a lawyer. The majority of voters were farmers. 
Many of them had never heard of a nightshirt, let alone 
owning one. In the heat of a former debate the Democratic 
candidate had charged his opponent with being an aristo- 
crat in that he wore a nightshirt. The Republican candi- 
date at first denied it, but at the Harlan meeting the Demo- 
cratic candidate produced the necessary proof, and from 
that moment the Republican candidate's chances were 



IirXMXC; A STOCK UAXCII. 




The Author. 



72 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

doomed; in fact, if I recollect rightly, he withdrew from 
the contest. 

What a comfort were letters and newspapers in our 
isolated homes ! It was a long way to the post-oflflces, so 
the rule of getting each other's mail was strictly adhered 
to, and often, when taken from the post-office, it was a 
long time and by circuitous routes before it finally reached 
the owner. When one got his neighbor's mail it was not 
expected that he would go miles out of the way to deliver 
it. Sometimes it would be a week reaching its final des- 
tination. One of the most disagreeable nights I ever 
passed was trying to locate a letter with other mail which 
had been taken out of the post-office by one of my neigh- 
bors. 

There was a young lady from the East visiting us at the 
time, who was a great letter writer, and I thought she 
would drive us all crazy trying to figure out how she could 
get her mail to and from the distant post-office. On one 
of my trips to town I found my mail had been taken out 
the day before by one of my neighbors. The postmaster 
v^^as unable to tell to whom he delivered it. It wasn't a 
matter of great concern to me, as I knew it was safe some- 
where and would eventually get around. On my return 
home I made a great mistake. Instead of saying there 
wasn't any mail, I said it was taken out by somebody. 
The words had no sooner left my mouth than our guest 
gave a yell like a Comanche Indian and almost had a fit. 
It seems she was expecting an important letter. All her 
letters, both going and coming, seemed 'important," and 
those going were generally marked "in haste." As evening 
approached the more hysterical she got. My wife told me 
there wouldn't be any sleep in that house that night if I 
didn't strike out and get that mail. 



RUNNING A STOCK RANCH 73 

It was more than a nij^ht's ride to all my neighbors, so 
I divided up the territory with one of ni.y men. lie was 
to cover one-half and I the other. I Avas in hopes that my 
nearest neighbor, who was five miles away, would be the 
man, but there was no such luck in store for me. If I had 
known what was ahead of me I would never have left the 
place, but slept in one of the barns. There was nothing 
delightful riding over the prairies in the dark of the moon, 
trying to steer clear of dogs while waking your neighbors 
up in the middle of the night. The first streak of daylight 
Avas shedding its luster over the horizon as Captain Dyes' 
place near Gallon's Grove came in sight three miles away. 
The captain's was the last place on my list. As I left the 
last place before the captain's — the distance between the 
two being seven miles — I came near starting home, believ- 
ing my man had gotten the "important" letter on his route. 
It was lucky that I didn't turn back, as the capta«in had 
the coveted prize. Old Sol was showing his scalp above 
the prairie grass as I reached the captain's. In the cattle- 
yard was the captain milking the cows. I propounded 
the now stereotyped question, "Got any mail for me?" 
*^Yes," came back the reply. "Well, Cap, for God's sake 
let me have it." I explained the situation, and he laughed 
so hard he rolled off the milk stool. Headachy and hun- 
gry, I started for my home, fifteen miles away. When I 
arrived the house was in an uproar. Nobody had slept a 
wink. The young lady had collapsed at 2 a.m., and they 
had sent for a doctor. My man had returned at that hour 
with the report that some mail had been lost by Bill Cuppy 
near Leland's Grove, and he believed my mail was among 
the rest. The first thing I did on my return was to dis- 
patch one of the men to Woodbine with a request to the 
postmaster: "Don't deliver any of my mail to anybody 
without an order." 



74 WHEN THE WILD^yOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 



CHAPTEK VII. 

SHIPPING STOCK TO CHICAGO. 

As ALREADY Stated, the Northwestern was the first roac\ 
across Iowa, and the trains were run in a go-as-you-please 
kind of style. There was one passenger train each Avay a 
day and several freights. They had a schedule just to look 
at, but not to run by. They would stop anywhere for any- 
thing or anybody. They tell a story that Knox Shufelt, 
a passenger conductor, held his train while he acted as 
best man at a wedding at a near-by farm house. Like the 
governors of North and South Carolina, it was a long dis- 
tance between stations. As soon as the railroads got 
through, we stock men took advantage of it and commenced 
shipping our stock over the road to Chicago. The engineer 
who ran the freight I usually shipped on was Johnny 
Wells, and the conductor was Jim Folsom. The boys were 
great hunters and carried their guns along, and while pass- 
ing through Carroll County, where there was a good sup- 
ply of prairie chickens, they often stopped the train to 
knock over a dozen or so. They used to run through Har- 
rison and Crawford Counties as if the Old Nick was after 
them, so as to have plenty of time to hunt in Carroll. 

You who are riding on the Northwestern to-day, with its 
double track and its frequent and swift-moving trains, 
think of a freight train standing on the only track for 



SHIPPING STOCK TO CHICAGO. 75 

hours at a time, and the trainmen off on the prairies liunt- 
ini>' chickens, ^^'llen we arrived at Boone, the end of the 
division, the trainmen were often callcMl up by the super- 
intendent to (^xphiin why they couhl not make schedule 
time. The boys spoke of ''hot boxes," "brokc^ in two com- 
ino' over the hills of the divide," and when they ran out of 
excuses we stock men Avould come to the rescue and tell 
the superintendent the cattle were getting down badly and 
Ave had to stop and get them on their feet again. 

There is an end to everything, an<l there Avas a finish to 
Folsoni hunting prairie chickens Avhile running a freight 
train. Jim was caught red-handed, and I Avas in at the 
kill. One morning, bright and early, I had loaded four cars 
of cattle and tAvo of hogs at St. John, noAV ^lissouri Val- 
ley, and Jim came along from Council Bluffs on his way 
to Boone. It was a beautiful dav in the fall of the vear, 
and the boys thought they Avould take a shot at some 
prairie chickens. Wells pulled the throttle wide open, and 
away Ave flew up the valley of the Boyer and over the di- 
vide for Carroll County. At a level place in the road the 
boys brought the train to a stop, and OA^er the prairie we 
Avent after chickens. The train Avas entirely desertcnl. We 
had been gone about an hour Avlien there came resounding 
over the prairies a long-draAvn-out whistle of a locomotive. 
It seems the superintendent had started out on a prospect- 
ing tour from Boone and had found Jim's deserted train. 
The cold chills commenced to run up and down the boA^s' 
A^ertebrae as they caught sight of the superintendent's car. 
Jim Avas equal to the occasion, lioAveA^er. Picking out six 
of the fattest chickens, he approached the stern-looking 
superintendent with a smile, and, handing out the chick- 
ens, said: ''^Ir. Superintendent, alloAV me." Jim by in- 
vitation rode to the next siding in the superintendent's car, 



76 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

and what took place at the little seance between them Jim 
would never tell, but the next time I Avent over the road I 
noticed we did not stop at our favorite hunting grounds, 
and as we rolled over the ties through Carroll County, Jim 
sat in the corner of the caboose looking throuo-h the win- 




"Johnny" Wells. 



dow, and would take a long breath every time he saw a 
prairie chicken fly over the train. But it did not follow 
that Jim never got any more prairie chickens, as they were 
occasionally lying dead along the track by coming in con- 
tact Avith the telegraph wires. The prairie chicken would 



SIIIPriXG STOCK TO CHICAGO. 77 

make a ^ood carrim'-pioeoir, sa to speak, as it is a rapid 
fiver. Like the quail, its breast is large and most pala- 
table. 

I have had lots of trouble with four-footed animals in" 
stock cars and have forgotten most of those occurrences, 
but I will never forget the set-to on a locomotive, between 
live of us on one side and a Woodbine, Iowa, saloon- 
keeper on the other, who had a sudden attack of delirium 
tremens. The material* of the first grade of the railroads 
through Iowa was prairie dirt. Often the Boyer River 
was out of its banks from frequent rains, and the grade 
of the Northwestern was washed away, and for miles the 
track was under water, preventing the moving of trains. 
In the early days of railroad building in the West the main 
object was to reach distant points as soon as possible and 
get trains to running, as there was always some incentive 
offered for rapid construction; therefore, proper grades, 
punching dirt under ties and driving spikes was often sac- 
rificed to the main point to "get there.'' The first grade 
of the Northwestern down the Boyer was only about three 
feet higher than the bottom lands, so often in the rainy sea- 
son the track was under w^ater, sometimes to the depth of 
several feet. 

While I was at Sioux City on a little business trip there 
occurred a terrific storm, and when- I arrived at Missouri 
Valley on my way home no trains were running on the 
Northwestern, as the track in places was covered with 
water and the wires were down in every direction. There 
was an important message at Missouri Valley which was 
necessary to be sent to Dunlap, the end of the division, and 
they were sending a Avild engine over the road to deliver it. 
The engine, if I recollect rightly, was in charge of Tommy 
Burling, a friend of mine, and knowing that I wanted to go 



78 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

to Woodbine, he invited me to ride on the engine. Besides 
Burling, his fireman and myself, the other occupants of the 
locomotive Avere the Woodbine saloon-keeper and two Dun- 
lap men. During my term of office as Mayor of Woodbine 
I had considerable trouble with this particular saloon- 
keeper. He was a hard drinker and had an attack of de- 
lirium tremens during my term. 

We were moving slowl}- along and occasionally going 
it blind so far as the track was concerned, expecting to 
strike a piece of undermined track and topple over, when 
"the man from behind the bar" struck Burling a terrific 
blow and grabbed the throttle, pulling it wide open. I 
yelled to everybody that the fellow had an attack of de- 
lirium tremens. The fireman struck the saloon-keeper over 
the head with his coal shovel, dropping him to the floor. 
Burling at the same time jumi)ed for the throttle. The 
maniac was soon on his feet again, and right there began 
the hottest fight in close quarters that I Avas ever in. We 
fought in the narrow space of the locomotive and all over 
the tender, on top of the coal, but we finally dumped the 
saloon-keeper off of the engine into the water. Burling 
said he would rather ditch the engine than let that fellow 
get aboard again, so he put on more steam, and luckily for 
us we pulled away from our guest, and the last we saw of 
him he was running and half swimming along the railroad 
grade. 

On our arrival at Woodbine I notified the saloon-keeper's 
partner of the occurrence; they immediately dispatched a 
boat down the valley and finally lancjed their man. 

I have unloaded a good many carloads of stock, but I 
never saw cattle unload themselves except once, and that 
vras a carload of Texas steers while going down the steep 
winding grade of the Northwestern Railroad from Moin- 



SHIPPING STOCK TO CHICAGO. 



79 



gona to the Des Moiiies Kivm- bridge. The grade on both 
sides was steep, with many curves, and the boys used to 
run down those grades as if old Nick was after them, so as 
to get a good start for the up-grade on tlie other side. The 
time I refer to we were running wild, being a stock train 
of twenty-tive cars witli no otlier freiglit. The boys liad the 
customary orders to keep out of the way of tlie reguhir 




Moingona Bridge, Scene of Kate Shelly's Heroic Act. 

trains. At tlie last station, the engineer saw he had time to 
reach Boone to meet the regular passenger train going 
West if he put on a little more steam, so when we struck 
the ]\roingona grade we were going about forty miles an 
hour. 

The car containing the Texas steers Avas out of repair, 
haying no crossbar at one of the exits. A crossbar prevents 



80 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

any pressure against the side doors. As the train rounded 
the second curve we saw a Texas steer going horns over 
hoofs down the steep incline at the side of the traclv, the 
next moment we saw another. A side door of the car went 
next, and then came another steer and then another. The 
conductor, Charlie Dow, tried to signal the engineer from 
the caboose, as none of the train crew dared to climb onto 
the top of the train. The engineer never looked back, all he 
was thinking about was getting onto a siding at Boone. In 
fact, he couldn't have stopped anyway, so on he went. 
Notwithstanding I Avas afraid the caboose would jump the 
track any minute, I couldn't help but laugh as I saAV steer 
after steer roll down the embankment. As we struck the 
bridge, a single wooden span, I saw the sight of my life, 
a steer going through the air turning somersault after 
somersault, and disappearing into the river. As we 
started up the grade toAvards Boone, the train slackened 
and we all climbed on top and ran towards the car which 
contained the Texas steers. About half of them were still 
in the car, and were rushing each other from one end to the 
other, and every now and then a steer would tumble out. 
As the train came to the switch yard at Boone, the rest 
of them jumped out and the country between Moingona 
and Boone was alive with Texas steers. 

We intended to unload at Boone, spending the night and 
the next day there. On account of the defective car, the 
owner of the Texas steers put it up to the railroad com- 
pan}', and that night and all the next day Boone and the 
entire country-side were rounding up Texas steers. Some 
were so badly crippled that tlie^^ were shot, others were 
sold to local butchers. One vicious cuss had wandered 
down into a slue on the river bottom and had injured two 
x)r three horses and men trying to corral him, and* the rail- 



SHirPIXG STOCK TO CHICAGO. 81 

road company ordered liiiii shot. Nobody dared to ^o near 
him, so they got the best marksman in Boone to ^yin2J him. 
Abont all you could sec^ of the steer Ayas his head aboye 
the slue orass, and at this the fellow fired. He would fire, 
and ab(mt all the steer would do would be to shake his 
head. The fellow fired four times and he said he would 
take his oath he had hit the steer between the horns eyery 
shot. The animal made a char^je towards us and the 
Boone man pluiiiied him behind one of the fore lecjs, and 
the o-entleman from the Lone Star State dropped. I there 
learned that an animaPs head, especially that of a Texas 
steer, is not a yital spot, as eyery one of those four shots 
had struck him squarely in the forehead between the eyes. 
Not hayinc: been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, 
and haying to paddle my own canoe, I naturally have 
tackled some hard propositions, but the toughest job I 
eyer undertook was to start from the Missouri Kiyer and 
land a consignment of cattle in the Union Stock Yards, 
Chicago, without a loss. The first run was three hundred 
miles across the State of Iowa to the ^lississippi Kiyer; 
it generally took thirty-six hours, two nights and a day. 
In loading cattle, on account of the freight charges, you 
naturalh' Ayould get eyery steer in a car you could. The 
steers had ^^standing room only"; conse(iuently, if a steer 
got down, which was a yery common occurrence, on ac- 
count of the fatigue from standing too long, it was either to 
get that steer on his feet again or he Ayould be trampled to 
death, and away would go the profit on that car of cattle. 
Sometimes you could raise him by standing alongside of 
the car and using your prod — a pole about six feet long 
Ayitli a sharp iron point in one end of it — but often you 
had to climb into the end window of the car and go right 
among them, horns, dropjungs, and all, and take your 



82 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 



chances of ever getting out alive, the trainmen paying no 
attention to you, the train running thirty miles an hour, 
and juaybe it is night and as dark as pitch. As I look back 
to the da^'S and nights when I was a shipper of stock to 
Chicago, and recall the many horn-breadth escapes I had, 
the wonder is I am alive. 

Manv a time I have started from the Missouri River for 




The Home of the Stockman and His Herd. 

Chicago with a trainload of stock and never got a wink 
of sleep for twenty-four hours at a stretch. I recall the 
night at Belle Plaine that we pulled a dead Mexican out 
of a car of Texas steers. Instead of insisting on having 
his car sidetracked to get up some steers that were down, 
he foolishly crawled into the car and to his finish. What 
a great relief it Avas on our arrival at the yards at Chicago, 
as we turned the stock and prod pole over to our commis- 



SHIPPING STOCK TO CHICAGO. 83 

sioiier and started for the Transit House for a bath, shave 
and a change of raiment, and to enter a clean dining-room 
aoain for the first square meal in four days, and, after the 
^tock was sold, to return home dressed as jijentlemen. No 
one would have thought that the well-dressed individual 
comfortably lounging iu a Pullman Avith an ebony em- 
ployee catering to his wants, was the same unkempt, dirty 
citizen who, but a few hours before, with a four-days' 
growth of whiskers on his chin, was in a filthy stock car 
trying to get a steer on his feet. 

A character who traveled under the sobriquet of "Canada 
Biir' was well known along the Northwestern as the king- 
pin three-card monte man of the Northwest. "Huml)ug'' 
Barnum, the greatest showman the world ever knew, said a 
fool was born every minute, and the daily and nightly occu- 
pation of "Canada Biir' was trying to confirm the truth of 
that saying. Bill and his cappers worked the Northwest- 
ern between "the two rivers/' and many a bank roll of 
persons green as regards the ways of this world, found its 
way via "the picture card'' to Bill's exchequer. 

On my way back from Chicago, after a shipment of stock, 
being unable to sleep, I left my berth and went forward 
to the smoking car for a smoke. I walked the length of the 
smoker to see if I knew anybody. The only familiar face 
was that of a fellow by the name of Jack Bridgers. 
Bridgers posed as a traveling man. He traveled all right, 
sometimes mightv fast. He claimed as his home Fort Lara- 
mie, Wyoming. He was known around the old Herndon 
House at Omaha — where I made his acquaintance — as a 
"road agent,'' one of those fellows who stop stage coaches 
in the lonely passes of the mountains to take up a collec- 
tion for present necessities and future Avants. As I sat 
down beside him with a "Hello, Jack !" he didn't seem to 



84 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

like it being recognized ; at first he denied bis identity, but 
he soon mellowed and we talked of times along the Big 
Muddy. 

As the train stopped at a small place called Colo, there 
climbed aboard a fellow who ta all appearances was a typi- 
cal hayseed. I immediately recognized the newcomer as 
"Canada Bill.'' Personating an old farmer was Bill's fa- 
vorite role. I don't believe any one but myself knew who 
he was except the trainmen. Bill ahvays made himself 
solid with them. He had hardly taken his seat, which was 
just across the passage away from the one occupied by 
Bridgers and myself, when in a loud voice he commenced 
one of his tales of woe. In regular old farmer parlance he 
said he had just come over from the Calhoun County Fair 
and had been swindled out of a whole lot of money by some 
three-card monte men, and he had bought a deck of cards 
to learn the trick himself. I told Bridgers who the hay- 
seed was, he said he had heard of '^Canada Bill," 
but had never met him. It was but a short time before 
Bill commenced separating some of the boys from their 
spare change. 

In the game of three-card monte it is an easy matter to 
guess the picture card unless some other card is substituted 
in the act of throwing. One of the tricks of the game is that 
the manipulator changes the location of the picture card 
after the three cards have been thrown. This change is 
made when the bettor momentarily takes his eyes off of the 
cards while hunting for his money. Bridgers said to me, 
"See me make my fare from Omaha to Laramie, and I will 
make it by an old trick if your man don't smell a mouse." 
Bill threw the cards. Bridgers offered to bet twenty he 
could tell the picture card. Bill said, "I'll go you, neigh- 
bor." Bridgers had his twenty ready, covered Bill's, and 



SHirriNG STOCK TO CHICAGO. 



85 



before Bill had time to wink, lii-idi^ers pulled a knife from 
bis boot, drove it tliroiiob the picture eard and pulled his 
gun, with the remark, ''I have dirked the picture card." 
Canada AVilliam was a jiood loser and never whimpered as 
Bridgers raked in the pot. The display of the artillery of 




The Mother Watching the Branding of Its Ofifspriug. 

the "travelins: man" from Fort Laramie broke up the oame; 
the hayseed from tlie Calhoun County Fair lit a ])erfecto, 
pulled his hat over his eyes, with the remark, ''Well, I guess 
I struck an exception to Old Barnum's rule.'' 



S6 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 



CHAPTER VIII. 

ATMOSPHERIC DISTURBANCES. 

While I was raising stock in the valley of the Pigeon 
for the benefit of the Beef Trust and the railroads, I saw 
the start and finish of one of the greatest scourges that 
ever afflicted a fanning community — the destructive locust 
or grasshopper. Anything that can bring a fast-running 
train to a standstill certainly deserves recognition. Many 
a time I saw grasshoppers stop a passenger train on the 
Northwestern. I don't mean they would catch hold of the 
cars and stop the train by main strength, or hop aboard 
and pull the bell cord, but they covered the rails in count- 
less thousands, and, like the tramp preferring to die rather 
than move, the locomotive in squashing out their lives so 
greased the track that the driving-wheels failed to hold to 
the rails. One fall, about the time the corn crop was 
nearing maturity, there came whirling through the air 
millions of grasshoppers. Looking toward the sun they 
appeared like snowflakes. As they descended they acted 
as if they hadn't had a square meal for a month; they 
covered the corn, in fact, everything. The only citizens 
who seemed to meet them with a glad hand were the 
turkeys. Unlike the historic bird, he didn't have to sneak 
up behind, but like the enemy of the Light Brigade at 
Balaklava, the grasshoppers were on all sides. After the 



ATMOSPHERIC DISTURBANCES. 87 

pests had devoured even-thin^ that Avas oreen and pala- 
table, they deposited their e<»^s in the soil and winged their 
Hight to pastures new. The spring- sun hatched out the 
eggs, and the ne\\ 1 y born devoured the growing crops and 
took their departure as soon as their wings developed. 
There seenuMl to l)e nothing to destroy these pests. For 
several falls they made us a visit, then, possibly tiring of 
our society, left us never to return. As the plains to the 
west of us settled up, the breeding places of the locust were 
encroached upon and destro3'ed, and the grasshopper 
ceased to be a burden. 

Those who have not lived on the prairie will not believe 
the stories of actual occurrences with the wind. It is one 
continual blow night and day from one year's end to the 
other. I started one day for market with a load of oats. 
It was my first experience transporting that article. The 
wind was blowing a gale, and as it struck the wagon it 
formed a whirl over the oats and they commenced to circle 
in the air. In spite of all that I could do they kept on 
circling, and by the time I arrived at the market not a 
peck of oats was left and I had seeded down the country. 
I was running my ranch at the time the insurance com- 
panies first inserted a clause in their policies against 
"straight winds.'' For two weeks, night and day, there 
came a wind from the southwest that caused my house to 
vibrate so we dared not sleep in it. During those two weeks 
we slept on the prairie. How trees ever grew in that coun- 
try is beyond m^^ comprehension ! 

The greatest dread of the inhabitant of the prairies is 
the cyclone. No one has any conception of a Western 
cj^clone unless he has been on the ground, or, I might prop- 
erly say, in the air. One of the worst that ever occurred 
in the West I saw, but, thank Heaven, did not feel. I was 



88 



WHB:N the WILD\yOOD was in FLO\yER 



in Mills County, Io^ya, buying cattle. It was one of those 
awful hot, muggy da^^s in July, Ay lien you could look for 
hailstorms, thunderstorms and cyclones. 

Speaking of hailstorms, I attribute my early baldness to 
an experience I had with a hailstorm. The day the partic- 




The Author's Wife and Her Indian Pony. 



ular hailstorm I refer to occurred was about as hot as hu- 
nmnity could bear. I had gone on horseback to driye up 
some cattle. One of the dogs went along with me. I was in 
my shirt sleeyes without any undershirt, and wore a straw 
hat, or what was left of it. 1 say what was left of it, as the 



ATMOSPHERIC DISTURBANCES. 89 

top of the hat was i^oiie, leaving my ambrosial locks exposed 
to the rays of the sun. I was as ^ood as bareheaded. You 
often hear of stories of hailstones being as large as hens' 
eggs and possibly doubted them, but if you will believe me, 
I have seen hailstones as large as eggs, and double-yolk 
eggs at that. I was on my way back with the herd, and 
as I came over the divide and started down a long hollow 
that led to the Pigeon I saw a hailstorm coming up the 
river. When I first saw it, it was about a quarter of a 
mile away and coming as fast as the wind. The stock 
could feel the chill and knew what was coming as well as 
I did, and all hands started on the jump down the hollow 
for the river, in order to get under the protection of the 
bank. Before any of us got half way to the river the storm 
was upon us. Hailstones commenced bouncing off the top 
of my head and welting me on the back. I jumped off 
the horse and tried to keep him between me and the storm, 
but in trying to hold him, we were going around and 
around in a kind of a "two-step,'' so to speak. There was 
nothing to do but let go of the horse and strike out for the 
river bank. I have heard of the Delaware whipping-post, 
and I can imagine how a fc^^ow's back feels. ^ly dog was 
at my heels, getting it with the rest; every little way he 
would lie down in the prairie grass and whine and then 
up and after me again. I would hold up my hands over my 
head and ward off the stones till I could stand it no longer, 
then my head would catch it again. There is one redeem- 
ing feature about hailstorms — they are of short duration. 
But that one lasted long enough to keep me company to 
the river bank. As I reached the bank over I went and 
crawled under the protection of an overhanging sod. The 
sun shone forth again; the cattle, one by one, came out of 
the river bottom ; the horse had gone to the stable, but the 



90 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

ever-faithful dog was at my side. The hair had partiall}^ 
protected mj scalp, but my back looked like that of a small- 
pox patient. That hailstorm utterly destroyed one of my 
corn fields, consisting of one hundred acres. 

I recall a little episode which occurred in an adjoining 
corn field a month later that laid low another portion of 
my corn crop. Among the other dogs on the place was a 
bulldog. A cattle ranch and bulldogs do not dove-tail 
very well, but as this particular dog was a pet of the female 
contingent his society was allowed. Like all bulldogs, 
this one was on the popular side of the monopoly question, 
for if he was ever called upon to help the other dogs out, 
where the herd was concerned, he would pick his animal 
and leave the balance of the herd to the rest of the dogs. 
So if any reader of this volume intends embarking in the 
cattle business and is a bulldog fancier, he will find it 
necessary to figure one bulldog with every head of stock. 
The little episode I refer to occurred on a certain occasion 
when the cattle broke into a corn field, not an uncommon 
occurrence on all well-regulated farms, and we started 
with a shepherd and a Newfoundland dog to drive 
them out. Without our knowledge the bulldog sneaked 
along. After the other dogs had quietly and suc- 
cessfully, or, at least, we thought they had, cleared the 
field, we heard an awful racket down at one end. Follow- 
ing the noise we found the bulldog and a three-year-old 
dancing the minuet while smashing down corn by the rod. 
The dog had the animal by the nose, and the steer was 
swinging him around like a professional club swinger. 
Before we got the dog's grip loose, between the men, horses, 
dogs and steer we destroyed more corn than the animal 
would have eaten in a month. The bulldog no doubt 



ATMOSPHERIC DISTURB A NCES. 



91 



thought he had performed a heroic act, and he never could 
quite understand, whenever thereafter the other dogs start- 
ed after the stock, why he was left in his kennel to meditate. 
In trying to describe a blizzard I mentioned the fact 
that Webster's and Worcester's dictionaries failc^l to 
supply the necessary words. If in addition to ^lessrs. 




"Texas," Our Mainstay. 

Webster and Worcester, :\rrs. Webster and :Mrs. Worcester 
and all the little Websters and Worcesters were to compile 
dictionaries, there would still be adjectives to coin to prop- 
erly describe a Western cyclone. As already stated, the 
cyclone to which I particularly refer was in :Mills County. 
While sitting on the piazza of a hotel we heard a low moan- 



92 WHEN THE ^A'ILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

ing sound which one of the bystanders remarked was the 
forerunner of a cyclone. Off to the southwest black clouds 
commenced to loom above the horizon; higher and higher 
they arose and commenced to whirl in a circle. The moan- 
ing we had heard changed to a roar. The clouds became 
funnel-shaped, with a long narrow tail hanging toward the 
ground. 

From the hotel steps we saw it bounding along the 
prairie, leaving a track a quarter of a mile wide swept as 
clean as a floor. The little whirlwind in the streets gives 
you the principle of the cyclone. Like it a cyclone forms 
a vacuum, lifting everything from the ground. The cyclone 
passed about a mile south of where I stood. After its 
passage the inhabitants of the adjoining country rushed to 
the aid of the stricken ones. Such a sight I never saw, nor 
ever listened to such experiences. Men, women and chil- 
dren were found dead, with every strip of clothing gone. 
Houses taken bodily from their foundations, torn into 
pieces and carried away for miles. Gullies full of dead 
animals and refuse, dead chickens without a feather, iron 
machinery twisted like a pretzel, ruin and desolation on 
all sides. A Mr. Osier's place, a gentleman from whom I 
had recently bought some stock, was in the track of the 
storm. His whole family lost their lives; he was saved. 
He told me that at one time he was at least two hundred 
feet in the air, and sailing along with him was a pet colt 
so close he could have put his hand on it. In one of Mr. 
Osier's corn-cribs there was over 5,000 bushels of corn; 
not a piece of the corn-crib nor an ear of the corn remained. 
The blacksmith of a village over which the storm passed 
was at work, and as the shop, which had a dirt floor, lifted 
and started heavenward, he caught hold of the anvil and 



ATMOSriIKKIC DlSXrur.ANCES. 93 

hunj: on and thereby saved his life. The Eastern farmer 
sometimes deplores his lot, but if he had seen what I saw 
that day he would conclude there was somethiui*; worse to 
contend with than railroads, commission men, book agents, 
candidates and poor markets. 

It was while I was battlinj;- with the elements on the 
Pi<T:eon that the old settler had to admit that the record- 
breakino- winter storm occurred. The storm and the in- 
tense cold of the 13tli of January, 1888, Ayill neyer be ef- 
faced from the memory of those who experienced it. Up 
to 3 p. M. the wind was in the Southwest, with no atmos- 
pheric Ayarnings of what was to come. Suddenly the wind 
whirled to the Northwest, and that fine snow which is the 
forerunner of a blizzard came sifting- alono- the frozen 
ground. The bulb in the thermometer began to sink, and 
with each passing moment the fury of the storm increased. 
For thirty-six hours it raged. Parents lost their lives en- 
deayoring to reach the isolated school-houses where the 
children were marooned. Usually in storms the stock is the 
first consideration, but they were left to shift for them- 
selves, consequently thousands perished. Forever after the 
dread of an approaching 13th of January to the Western 
stockman was like the guillotine to the condemned crim- 
inal. 



94 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 



CHAPTER IX. 

UP AGAINST THE RED MAN. 

In mv career on the plains as a "cow puncher," as mayor 
of a frontier town, and as superintendent of a mine in the 
early days of Leadville, Colorado, I have occasionally been 
where I felt like shying my "caster into the ring" ; but of 
all my experiences I never ached to go on "the war path" 
as I did when on the Niobrara River in Nebraska, years 
ago, I saw one of my best friends lying dead, scalped by 
a band of bloodthirsty Indians. Back in the seventies I 
was interested in a cattle ranch in that locality. The only 
railroad across the plains at the time was the Union 
Pacific. The nearest station of the railroad to our ranch 
was Ogaliala. About fifty miles farther up the river from 
the ranch in which I was interested was that of the Moore- 
head bo^s, of Dunlap, Iowa. We often visited. Some of 
my stock had stra^' ed away, and in hunting for them it took 
us in sight of the ]Moorehead corral. As we came on to the 
divide from Avhere we alwavs caught sight of the Moore- 
head ranch, we saw a cloud of smoke instead. As we ap- 
proached the place we saAv it was entirely consumed. About 
three hundred yards from the corral we came upon one of 
Moorehead's helpers lying on the ground shot dead and 
scalped. Near the corral lay the dead body of Prank 
Moorehead. We knew it was the work of Indians. It 



TV ACAIXST THE RED MAN. 



95 




Little Wolf's Double. 



soeiiHMl that Little Wolfs band of riieyenno Indians had 
brokon away from their reservation in the Indian Territory 
and had left a track of blood and ashes throuiih the States 



96 WHEN THE \VILD\yOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

of Kansas and Nebraska, and it was these devils who had 
done the work. 

Possibly the novice is not aware of the fact that the 
scalp taken by the Indians is that part of the head where 
the hair makes a crown. Some have more than one crown. 
Moorehead must have had two, as he was scalped in two 
places. Over the grave of his dead brother Frank^ Jim 
Moorehead took an oath of revenge. Whether he ever got 
revenge or not I do not know, but I do know that Little 
Wolf is dead. The Niobrara country in those days was 
an awful lonesome place. Our nearest town was Ogal- 
lala, one hundred and fifty miles away. There we 
had to go for our provisions and mail. Eeports were made 
every two weeks to the owners of the cattle on the range 
which necessitated a ride of one hundred and fifty miles 
and back. I made the ride once and "once was enough for 
him." Loping sevent3^-five miles between daylight and 
twilight is quite a jaunt, but to get up the next morning 
and go another seventj^-five, and then go back over the route 
in another two days is about all the average citizen can 
stand. There was a ranchman's corral just half way to 
Ogallala, where we stopped over night and changed horses. 
It was either to make the seventy-five miles to that corral 
in a day or camp out, and I never heard of any of the boys 
taking the camping-out end of the proposition. God help 
them if they did! Physicians tell us that there is nothing 
more beneficial than horseback riding, but they didn't 
mearT three hundred miles in four days, with the chances 
of being chased by Indians. 

The hardest ride I ever made in my fifteen years in the 
saddle was a forty-two-mile gallop from Six Mile Grove, 
in Iowa, to Council Bluffs, and made under a terrible 
nervous strain. The wife of my nearest neighbor, while 



UP AGAKNi^T THE UKI) MAX. 97 

feeding a cane mill, caught her right arm in the machinery 
and crushed it above the elbovr before they could stop the 
macliine. I Avas present when the sickening accident oc- 
curred. :Mounting the fleetest horse in my friend's stable, a 
mustang, I so(m reached the divide along which led tlie old 
:M()rmon trail to Council Bluffs. This trail was the prin- 
cipal road traveled by the ^Mormons across Iowa on tlieii* 
exodus from Xauvoo, Illinois, to Salt Lake City. The 
horse seemed to realize what had occurred, and for the 
first twenty miles needed no urging, but on the last stretch 
I often applied the spurs and whip. As a guide to those 
who for years afterward followed the trail, the I^Iormons 
sowed sunflower seeds along it, and the Mormon trail ever 
after was marked by tali sunflowers. The wind would whirl 
them over the road, and I was constantly dodging them, 
and occasionally I would get a swipe, but I made the 
forty-two miles in two and three-quarter hours, but it 
was the last trip that horse ever made. The exertion was 
too much for him, and I left him in Council Bluff's to die. 
Fortunately, the doctor was at home, and fiftw^n minutes 
after my arrival we were going back over the trail Avith a 
span of horses that for fleetness would have been the 
envy of any horseman. 

While I was attending a meeting of the Masonic lodge 
of which I was a member, at the little frontier town of 
Dunlap, Iowa, we were called to defend the town from a 
threatened attack from the Omaha tribe of Indians. The 
Indians had been camped for a couple of weeks by the 
Boyer River, about a mile from town. The chief was 
Yellow Smoke. He was a great gambler, and a suc- 
cessful one at that. He often visited the saloons of 
the town for a game of cards and to see what show there 
was to get his hands on some firewater. Yellow Smoke, 



98 



WHEN THE WILD\YOOD WAS IN FLOWER 



unfortunately, sat down one night in a game with some 
toughs, who purposely got him drunk to rob him. They 
stole his money and an elegant fur robe, and in the melee 
Yellow Smoke was killed. The toughs fled the town. As 
soon as the tribe heard of Yellow Smoke's death they came 




The Original American. 

for the body and demanded the men who killed him. The 
body they took away and buried, and sent word to the 
town authorities that they wanted the men who had killed 
their chief. There were four hundred bucks in the Indian 
camp, armed to the t^eth, and as Dunlap had only about 



UP AGAIXST THE RED MAN. 99 

live hundred iuhabitauts all told, things began to look a 
little dubious. The authorities sent back word, which was 
the truth, that the men who killed Yellow Smoke Avere not 
residents of the place and had tied from the town. The 
Indians wouldn't believe it, and demanded the men at 
once or they would come after them. We all knew what 
the result of that expedition would be. A committee, 
of Avhich I was a member, from the lodge, visited the In- 
dian camp to tr}^ and appease them, and assure them that 
the men had left. At the suggestion of one of the mem- 
bers, we dressed in our Masonic regalia. What a fortu- 
nate suggestion ! To the astonishment of all of us, the 
Indians on- our approach greeted us with Masonic signs, 
and assured us they would believe Avhat we told them. 
Our statement proved satisfactory. The Indians having 
obtained Masonic signs in some unaccountable manner, un- 
doubtedly saved Dunlap from being wiped off the map; 
that is, it looked that way. But there is one thing certain ; 
from what I knew of the caliber of Dunlap citizens and 
the out-of-town members of the lodge who were present 
at that particular time, the Omaha tribe of Indians would 
have been somewhat reduced before the wiping-out process 
was completed. 

In all my experience with the noble red man the most 
trying moment I ever passed through was when I sat at my 
desk in a grain house at Woodbine, Iowa, with my back to 
six stalwart Indians while closing a transaction with them 
in which from all appearances I was taking advantage of 
their ignorance. On my election to the mayoralty of 
Woodbine I bought a half interest in a grain business. 
About half of the time I spent at the office of the grain 
house. We had several government corn contracts to fill. 
Western Iowa at that time was one of the great corn belts 



100 WHEN THE WILDWOOD ^yAS IX FLOWER 

of the West. The contracts necessitated the corn being 
shelled and sacked. The improved corn sheller Avith its 
necessary equipment was a little too rich for our bank ac- 
count, so all the corn shelled at the warehouse Avas done by 
hand shellers. Tavo good men could shell and sack one 
hundred bushels a day. AVe paid Aa e cents per bushel. For 
the benefit of the reader who never saw a hand corn sheller, 
I would state that it is a small iron contriA^ance which is 
put in motion by a person turning a crank and another 
feeding the machine one ear at a time, the corn coming out 
of one hole and the cobs another. EA'ery once in a Avhile 
the men Avould stop to sack the accumulated corn and clear 
away the cobs. 

An island on the Boyer EiA^er about half a mile from 
Woodbine was a favorite Indian camping ground, and it 
Avas seldom that Indians Avere not in camp there. They 
daily visited the stores of the toA\'n to trade skins of ani- 
mals they had trapped along the Boyer for grub and knick- 
knacks. The path from the island passed our Avarehouse. 
Nailed to the corner of the building was a sign, ''Corn 
shellers wanted.-* On my arriA'al one morning at the office 
of the warehouse I saw six Indians running a corn sheller 
which my partner had put to work. One of our men was 
trying the hopeless task of instructing the noble red man 
the trick of running a corn sheller. It seems they had seen 
the sign "Corn shellers wanted'' and had made applica- 
tion. I would giA^e right noAV one hundred dollars if I had 
a photograph of those six Indians running that corn shel- 
ler, and I can assure the reader he would see it reproduced. 

As I stated, one of our men was trying to shoAV them how 
to run the machine, but he finally gaAe up the job. Instead 
of running two machines, the Avhole six were, I might say, 
standing around one. In feeding a hand corn sheller you 



UP AGAINST THE RED MAN. 



101 



put one ear of coru in immediately after another, but in 
spite of nij man's directions, the Indian who was feedin<]j 
•the machine would not put in another ear until he saw the 
cob of the preceding: one come out. One Indian was hand- 
ing corn to the fellow who was feeding, another turning the 




Dinner Is Now Ready in tlie Dining Car. 



crank, another picking up the loneh^ cob as it fell to the 
floor and carrying it over to the cob pile, another holding 
a sack and another with a broom and scoop shovel gatluT- 
ing up the kernels of corn as they came from the machine. 
The fellow who Avas turnin"- the crank soon saw he had the 



102 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER 

hardest job, so there was a continual argument going on 
as to whose turn it was next to turn the crank. After they 
had worked about four hours, they entered the office, greet- 
ing me with the word "backsheesh," which means, in 
English, money. I knew they were ready to quit and be 
paid off. 

I sent one of the men to measure the corn, and he re- 
turned with the announcement that they had shelled the 
immense amount of two bushels, which at five cents a 
bushel came to ten cents. For the moment I didn't know 
what to do. With six Indians, all over six feet, standing 
at my back, who had worked hard according to their theory 
for nearly half a day, it required a lot of nerv^e on my part 
to hand them a lonely ten-cent piece. I never looked up as 
I handed one of them the coin. I expected to hear a war- 
whoop and feel my scalp leaving my head and several 
knives enter my anatomy. I could realize the feelings of 
the criminal in that horrible moment as he sits in the elec- 
tric chair between the completion of the strapping and the 
turning on of the electric current. After firing a little 
Indian dialect at each other, they filed out of the office. As 
they crossed the threshold two gentlemen who had been 
sitting in the office and who were aware of what had taken 
place, burst into laughter. The Indians hearing the laugh- 
ter stopped, and greatly to my relief, grimly smiled. The 
fact of the matter was my partner had put up a job on me 
and was in a nearby store playing "seven up'' while watch- 
ing developments at the warehouse. 



THE PLAINS AND THE ROCKIES. 103 



CHAPTER X. 

THE PLAINS AND THE ROCEvIES. 

In the scliooldaj^s of my boyhood I learned of the Great 
American Desert, but little did I think then that I would 
ever experience its discomforts. It refjuired couraj^^e almost 
beyond the human frame to cover the trail to Denver and 
Santa Fe. Toilinfj,' along months at a time, urging slow- 
moving ox teams through the hot, blinding sandstorms by 
day and guarding your all from the Indians by night 
was enough to dethrone one's reason. I haA e seen strong 
men, who had endured nmny a hardship, crying like chil- 
dren at the trials around and before them. Nature, not 
satisfied with afflicting us with the real, would often mock 
us with the unreal. Man and beast perishing from thirst 
would see before them the mirage of some shady stream, 
seemingly a short distance aA\'ay. The dumb brut'^, ig- 
norant of the deception, Avould bolt toward the phantom, 
often following it to their death. Beautiful cities would 
appear above the horizon as if to lure us on, then, like the 
hopes of this life, soon faded away. I have often heard 
of the sufferings of the soldiers on the plains, but their life 
was clover to that of the government trains, and still 
the hardships of the government trains, composed of 
men, was a mere bagatelle to that of the immigrants with 
their Avomen and children. Tlu^y were the unprotected ones 
who invited the attack of the Indians. 



104 



WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLO\YER. 



The United States Government and those who to-day 
are enjovino^ the benefits of the plains and the Rockies, 
owe a debt to the immigrants of the sixties which they can 
never repay. On those long, weary tugs from Omaha to 
Denver it was a great relief, at least to me, Avhen the 




Omaha. 



Rockies came in sight. Notwithstanding when first seen 
they were over a hundred miles away, it was a satisfaction 
to know that vour goal was stationarv and alwavs in view, 
and ere long your journey would be at an end, although at 
times, after days of travel. Pike's Peak and its companions 
seemed to be as far away as when first sighted. 

There was nothing slow about building railroads over the 
plains; if they didn't build several miles between meals 



THE PLAINS AND THE ROCKIES. 105 

they considered it poor progress. For Innidreds of miles 
there were neither cuts nor tills. The surveyors Avould 20 
ahead and stake out a strip the rec^uired Avidth, furrows 
alonfj each side of the stakes were plowcxi, ties would be 
laid betAveen the furrowwl strip, and rails spiked down, 
and the construction cars run thereon. At the time the 
Pacific Kailroad bills Avere before Conoress there Avere 
opponents to the bills, of course, as there is to eA^erythino:. 
If a balloon came sailing over some communities, dropping 
tAventy-dollar gold pieces, there are people Avho would try 
to shoot the aeronaut for his audacity. According to 

the Congressional Globe, the discussion over the Pacific 
Kailroad bills shoAved what poor prophets Ave mortals be. 
EA^ery speaker who opposed the bills dAvelt long and 
earnestly on Avhat the Indians Avould do. They claimed 
that on account of the Indians the road could not be built, 
unless under the protection of troops, and after the road 
Avas constructed the Indians would tear up the track unless 
it Avas guarded the Avhole length. What a godsend it is 
that there are people Avho cannot be persuaded by scare- 
crows. If not, America Avould still be a AvildernessI 

While the Pacific railroads AA^ere under construction the 
only thing the Indians did was to ride along the ridges at 
a safe distance, half scared to death in fear of the iron 
horse; and after the road was built these ferocious Indians, 
who Avere going to eat the road up, ties, rails and rolling 
stock, seeing the Avhite man riding along in a cushioned 
seat smoking his cigar, commenced to make inquiries if 
they couldn't also ride. Instead of tearing up the track 
they became an infernal nuisance, pestering the govern- 
ment and railroad agents for free rides. There Avas hardly 
a train on the road Avithout having one or two flat cars 
occupied by a lot of lazy, dirty Indians riding along at 



106 WHEN THE WILDWOOD \yAS IN FLO^yER. 

the Government's expense. A certain train crew gave that 
practice its quietus. They started out of North Platte for 
Omaha with the usual Indian delegation. Riding on flat 
cars is ticklish business, as there is nothing to hold on 
to. The engineer said as he started out that vou would 
find a string of Indians Iving along the side of the track 
or he would ditch the train. He didn't ditch the train, 
but he did the Indians. While rounding curves he pulled 
the throttle wide open, and at every curve an Indian or 
two would roll off. The Indians were on their bellies, 
sliding over the car and yelling for dear life, but before 
the engineer let up he had dumped the whole bunch. 

What a God-forsaken countrj^ was western Kansas and 
Nebraska prior to the eighties. We often hear the expres- 
sion '4and poor," but I never realized Avliat it meant until 
I '^bullwhacked" over the sandy desert from Omaha to 
Denver. They tell a story of a land transaction in Avest- 
ern Nebraska which will give the reader an amusing il- 
lustration of ^4and poor." On the construction of the 
Union Pacific Railroad immigrants came j)Ouring into Ne- 
braska on the strength of the alluring literature issued 
by that companj^ If the ''press agent" of the Union Pacific 
didn't get a good salary, he certainly deserved it. The 
fellow was lucky to escape with his life from disappointed 
immigrants. The land transaction I refer to was as fol- 
lows : among others, a nmn from Illinois came to Nebraska 
with his famil}^ to locate on government land, but was un- 
able to find any which suited him. He was referred to a 
man who was "land poor." The Sucker had no money 
he could spare, but he had an extra span of mules and of- 
fered them to the Nebraskan for two hundred acres, 
and the offer was accepted. The necessary papers in the 
transaction were drawn up. A few days afterward as the 



THE PLAINS AND THE ROCKIES 107 

immigrant was examining the papers he discovered that 
besides the two hnndred acres, the ^'poor land" man had 
slipped in two hnndred acres more. 

How interesting it was to witness the birth and develop- 
ment of a railroad town on the frontier ! The first intima- 
tion that a certain spot was to become a town on the rail- 
road was when some bnsiness-looking individual came 
stalking down the line where the surveyors had driven their 
stakes far in advance of construction, and entered into ne- 
gotiations with the owner of the desired tract for its pur- 
chase. There was never any difficulty closing the deal, as 
the owner was generally offered more money than he ever 
expected to see. The surveyors came next and staked out 
the future metropolis. As the sleepers and rails were laid 
along the grade a siding was run out. The next arrival was 
a box car, with a stovepipe sticking out of it, which was 
run onto the siding. That was the temporary depot and 
the home of the railroad agent. Talk about Tsars, Kings 
and high potentates generally, that agent was a combina- 
tion of them all. His say was final ; there was no appeal 
from him. He was the wonder of far and near. People 
used to come for miles to look at him. That blue cap with 
that gold band set the little country girls wild. The boys 
thought it an honor to be kicked out of the box car by him. 
If you wanted to ask him about anything, if you knew what 
w^as good for you, be far away or behind something. 

The next adjunct to the new town were two more box 
cars, one furnished with bunks and the other a dining car. 
They were for the use of the men who were to build the 
depot and freight house. Now, my dear reader, for 
Heaven's sake don't think that when I say dining car I 
mean the palatial one of to-day, for, if you had seen the 
inside of that box car, and the cook, and what he cooked, 



108 WHEN THE WILD\YOOB WAS IN FLOWER 

and the way he cooked it, a 3 oke of oxen could not have 
pulled you into that car for a meal, and if you had seen the 
bunks and graybacks in the other, when the time came to 
^^Kock me to sleep, mother,-' you would have gone out on 
the prairie and lain down in the grass. As the first freight 
train arrived the rush was on. The agent was busy selling 
lots and the trainmen side-tracking carloads of lumber, and 
the enthusiastic citizens packing it on their backs to their 
respective locations. One enterprising citizen was putting 
up an eating shed, another a hotel, another a general store, 
another a grain and agricultural house, four or five more 
each building a saloon ; in fact, nearly all lines of business 
were represented. Through the whole twenty-four hours 
saws and hammers were resounding over the prairie. The 
buildings were generally one-story affairs. Everybody was 
trying to get established first. It was all bustle, hurrah 
and get there. The next big gun to appear on the scene 
was a post office inspector. Everybody was glad when the 
government official arrived, not only because he came to 
establish a post office, but it was a satisfaction to know that 
a bigger dog than that railroad agent had come to town. 

The greatest event that ever happened in the town was 
the arrival of the first woman. Men were invariablv 
the first comers to a new Western town. The hotel man 
soon found it necessary to bring his family, and the date 
of their arrival was noised around among the boarders. 
Around the town the news spread like a prairie fire, and all 
agreed that such an event required some action. It was 
decided that the whole town should be at the depot and 
escort the mother and her two children — the landlord's 
family — to their home. A committee was appointed to 
make the necessary arrangements. The railroad agent was 
appointed chairman. They sent for a couple of fifes and 



THE PLAINS AND THE ROCKIES. 109 

a drum and hired a farmer's team and wagon. The agent 
was appointed a connnittee of one to escort the hidy from 
the train to the wagon. The agent also agreed to act as 
drum major and lead the procession. As the agent was the 
only one in town who hail a decent suit of clothes, there 
was no objection to his conspicuousness. 

The long-looked-for train arrivetl with its precious 
freight. The agent escorted the astonished mother to the 
wagon decked out in the flowers of the wild, the father fol- 
lowing, with the two children and a big St. Bernard dog — 
the first dog in the town. The dog did not seem to relish 
the close proximity of the agent to his mistress, and tried 
to bite him. The dog's failure to reach the agent was a 
keen disappointment to the crowd. The procession started. 
First came the railroad agent with his blue suit, twirling a 
broom as a baton. Next came the drum corps, two fifes and 
a drum, then the wagon, the father and driver on the first 
seat, the mother and two children on the back seat, and 
the dog occupying the remaining space. Then came the 
citizens afoot, two abreast. The procession marched 
through the streets, the parents laughing, the children cry- 
ing, the dog barking, and the crowd singing appropriate 
songs. At the hotel the crowd dispersed after giving three 
cheers for the happy parents, the children and the dog. 
The arrival of a woman and children in town changed the 
whole atmosphere of the place. The men were put on their 
good behavior, and with the arrival of other women and 
children and more dogs the skirmish line of civilization 
had struck the town. 

The evening train of the next day brought an important 
adjunct to the community. As the train rolled in there 
alighted therefrom a '4ean and hungry Cassius," tall and 
angular, with long hair and an unkempt appearance, and 



110 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IX FLOWER 

an intelligent cast of countenance withal. He appropriated 
the first dry goods box he could lay his hands on and 
started for the public square. Mounting the box he doffed 
his hat, ran his hands through his flowing locks, wildly 
swung his arms and opened up with a thrilling voice. The 
gathering crowd soon learned that a ''pusher of the quilF' 
was among them. He announced that he was a newspaper 
man and that he would start a paper, furnishing the brains 
if the town would furnish the money. He spoke of the 
great advantage a newspaper was to a town. He was asked 
by one of the citizens the amount of money required to 
swing the thing, and the answer was |250. As the new- 
comer's arguments were convincing, the amount was raised 
then and there, and ere the Sun set on another Saturday 
night the '^Frairie Banner'' was unfurled o'er the uncertain 
sea of journalism, a sea whose coast line is strewn with 
many a wreck. The saying of Timothy Titcomb that "the 
law had undoubtedly spoilt many a good farmer" — which 
remark I take as a personal affront — might truthfully ap- 
ply to other avocations. 

Professional men came dropping into town, a school and 
church.were erected, the toAvn was incorporated and a 
Mayor and other officers elected, streets graded, sidewalks 
laid and trees set out. The one and a half story wooden 
buildings gave way to brick blocks, a public hall was 
erected, the place was booked as a one-night stand by the 
theatrical profession, a band was organized, secret socie- 
ties installed, and the town that started from a box car and 
a stovepipe on a siding eventually grew to a flourishing 
municipality, giving an illustration of the grit and enter- 
prise of the American race. 



THE PLAINS AND THE UOCKIES. 



Ill 



While I Avas holding down the chair of the chief execu- 
tive office of the city of Woodbine, the great strike at Lead- 
ville, Colorado, had been made on Fryer's Hill, and 1 and 
one of the solid citizens of the tow n tliought we would take 
a run out there and look the situation over. The Union 
Pacilic Kailroad had been built, and I found the trip from 




Denver and the Ever Snow-capped Rockies. 



Omaha to Denver somewhat different than T did years 
liefore, when I Avas associated Avith ^Ir. Bosler, a goA^ern- 
ment contractor. There is a big difference between cross- 



112 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

ing the hot sands of the desert in a railroad train and fol- 
lowing a slow-moving ox team, and at night a berth in a 
sleeping-car is much more preferable to lying under a 
wagon with a gun as a bedfellow, with one eve open trying 
to figure out whether that object you thought you saw was 
simply the waving of the grass or some sneaking Indian. 
I thought I had seen a frontier town when I struck Boone. 
But Boone was not in the same class with Leadville. 

What a restless race is the American ! In my life on the 
plains I saw railroads projected and built to isolated places 
over dreary wastes, yet the cars were crowded with Ameri- 
cans, many of wliom for the life of tliem couldn't tell 
Avhere they were going or what for. If they would build a 
railroad to the infernal regions, the cars Avould no doubt 
be full of Americans, taking their chances on ^'beating the 
devil around the bush." 

The Denver and Kio Grande Railroad had reached Lead- 
ville, and on the morning of the third day we arrived. 
Leadville is situated on what Avas once known as Cali- 
fornia Gulch, one of the richest i3lacer mining deposits in 
the world. Little did the old miners know as they washed 
the gold from the sand in California Gulch that the hills 
which looked down upon them contained as rich ore as the 
Rockies possessed. They tell the story, and seem willing 
to swear to it, how the rich mineral deposits of Leadville 
were unearthed. Miners are constantly being grub-staked 
to seek new discoveries. A poor miner by the name of 
Fryer and a companion were grub-staked and started off 
from California Gulch for the Mosquito Range. Among 
other things they took along was a jug of whiskey. They 
had gone but a short distance when they concluded they 
would stop and sample the A\hiskey to see if it Avas worth 
carrying. The result was they never left the spot until 



THE PLAINS AND THE ROCKIES. 



113 



the whiskey was consiiined. Tlie wliisk(n' ^cjone, they 
conhlii't see any object in <j;oiu2: farther, so they proposed 
to dig a hole in Mother Earth ri<>lit then and there, with 
the result that they exposcnl the carbonates that made 




Fryer's Hill in the Long Ago. 

Fryer's Hill at Leadville known the world over as one of 
the richest mining strikes. 

While we were in Leadville we attended a political meet- 
ing and saw a candidate swing a crowd by a trick I never 
saw before nor expect to see again. The miners' vote was all- 
important, and as the Leadville district went, so went the 



114 WHEN THE WILD WOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

State. The opposing candidate had been there a fortnight 
before and it seemed to be the opinion that he had corraled 
the mining vote. It was reported that the candidate who 
I heard, said, as he left Denver, that he had a sure scheme 
to win the miners' vote if he were given the opportunity 
to work it, and it seemed he had, but no one would have 
believed it a winner if he had known what it was before- 
hand. The miners never did take much stock in politics, 
so the candidate's reception was rather a chilly one. The 
fellow stood six feet in his stockings and was built in 
proportion ; was a good speaker, told some funny stories, 
and altogether made a very convincing speech. But one 
could see that the miners were not over-enthusiastic. After 
he finished he asked if anybody wanted to ask any ques- 
tions. Some "butter-in," fresh from the East, arose to 
ask a question, and the candidate requested him to come 
on to the platform. The fellow obeyed and propounded 
a simple question. The words had no sooner left his mouth 
than the candidate, who had walked over to where he was, 
hit the fellow a blow in the face, knocking him head over 
heels off the platform. We all looked on in utter amaze- 
ment. There was a dead silence, broken by the candidate 
walking to the foot-lights and smilingly inquiring if there 
was anybody else who wished to ask any questions. In a 
moment the miners were on their feet, cheering like mad 
and yelling at the top of their voices : "You are the kind 
of a man we want." They rushed on to the platform, 
boosted the fellow on to their shoulders and paraded all 
over town with him. He won the miners' vote. 

A daily sight and a ver^^ amusing one was the arrival 
and departure of the jack trains to and from the mines on 
the mountains. They brought ore down, and everything 
used in the mines above the}^ packed back. The loads 



THE PLAINS AND THE ROCKIES. 



115 



they carried up tlu^ niouiitaiiiside were simply astonish- 
ing. They \yere yery small animals and seeminiily docile. 
They had no harness on them of any kind, except a \yooden 
piece, like a saNy-buck, uirded to their backs. To the saw- 





















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The Little Pittsburg in the Good Old Days. 



bucks the loads were attached. A train consisting of seyen- 
teen jacks Ayas loaded one day in front of the hotel Ayhere 
I was stopping; two were loaded each with a barrel of 
kerosene and the others with IG-foot planks. The kero- 
sene barrels were tied on the saw-bucks and were as large 
as the jack. A plank was fastened on each side of the 



116 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

jacks, extending four feet in front and about six behind. 
We watched them with a glass as they held to the mountain 
trail. A jack train is absolutely necessary to the mines 
on the steep isolated mountains. All the jacks ask in 
return is a place to roll over and permission to emit an 
occasional bray. Not much recompense for their services ! 
There is no more faithful animal to man than the horse 
species, yet how cruelly they are often treated. There 
is no more philanthropic work than to aid and assist those 
societies in the great cities which have for their aim the 
protection of those toiling dumb brutes, who cannot ex- 
press their wants, and who one often sees fall by the way- 
side through the cruelty and neglect of their masters. 



THE PASSING OF THE STOCKMAN. 117 



CHAPTER XL 

THE PASSING OF THE STOCKMAN. 

Becoming tired of music and profanit}^, we pjladlv ac- 
cepted the invitation of an old stockman we happencxl to 
meet to visit his ranch in Wyomino- for a hunt amonj? the 
foothills for caribou. How ^ood it seemed to be in the 
woods again and away from that money-crazy crowd at 
California Gulch. Will the time ever come when there 
will be some other aim in life than huntino- gold? It is 
an honest endeavor in the daylight fair to extract the raw 
material from Mother Earth, but often through ways which 
are dark do Ave extract the finished product from our fel- 
low man. I was glad that my friend offered me the oppor- 
tunity to hunt for something else than veins and fissures 
and hear something else than ''a mill run" and so many 
"ounces to the ton." I was glad to get away from trying 
to solve the crooks and turns of the two-legged animal, 
and study the habits of the four-legged one. 

In the preceding chapters the author has endeavored 
to so relate his experiences on the frontier that the reader 
Avould find something in this book of a pleasant nature, 
but the life he led and its culmination was more of a 
tragedy than a comedy. While blazing the way, the many 
ordeals through which I struggled and tlio sacrifices I was 
compelled to make better fitted me for the life that fol- 



118 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

lowed, and I attribute my success when I again returned to 
the Empire 8tate to my experience on the plains. In order 
to fully appreciate the comforts of this existence, one 
should have experienced the life of the frontier. No one 
is competent to decide what is best for mankind without 
having first communed with Nature. Manv of the oreat 
men of ancient times and those Presidents of our country 
to whom we look as examples, lived in the open. 

It was a sorry day for me, while I was a stockman, that I 
wrote an article and had it published stating the truth con- 
cerning the beef combination. I regretted more than once 
t]iat T wrote the article, but who is there that hasn't writ- 
ten something he regrets? The only man I ever heard of 
who had no regrets for what he had ever written lived in 
New Hampshire. He happened to make the remark that 
he had never written anvthin^^ he reo^retted. Thev inime- 
diately proposed to run him for governor, but upon inves- 
tigation they ascertained that he couldn't write. 

I was a marked man from the time I wrote that article. 
To my surprise, the railroads took up the cudgel on behalf 
of the Beef Trust; while other shippers had no difficulty 
getting cars to ship their stock in, I always seemed to have 
trouble. They received rebates, while I got what the his- 
torical little pig did who neither went to market, sta^'Cd at 
home, had the choice of the menu card, nor tweaked at the 
barn door. If Charles K. Skinner, the agent of the North- 
western at that time at Woodbine, Iowa, or John B. Ander- 
son, the agent of the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul at 
Portsmouth, both good friends of mine, are alive, they could 
tell of many orders they received concerning me, that they 
found a Avay not to execute. After I got started with my 
stock I was often hampered along the line. I was once side- 
tracked for four hours at Cedar Bapids on the Northwest- 



THE PASSING OF THE STOCKMAN. 



119 



erii in a sleet storm uuder the pretense that there was some- 
thino broken on one of my cars, but the yardmaster, with 
Avhom I was w^ell acciuainted, told me there was nothing 
the matter. On my arrival in Chicago I was fortunate 
enough to tind President Keep at the company's office, and 



»."' . « ."^ ' < i t: v ■ ■•<nr»r 



"11 




My Last Bunch of Stock. 

I appealed to him, and, as a New Yorker, he promised me 
he would look into my case. As the same bill of fare con- 
tinued to be handed to me, I infer all I got was a "look-in.'' 
Before I threw up the sponge, however, I got one shot 
at the crowd by being instrumental in sending an attache 
of the Union Stock Yards to Joliet, and stopping, at least 



120 WHEN THE WILD WOOD WAS IN FLOWER. 

temporarily, a practice which was simply murder. A 
disease that is always prevalent among swine, and which 
has lost millions of dollars to the stock feeder, is known as 
hog cholera. Whole droves have been swept away by that 
dreaded disease. Carloads of infected hogs have been 
shipped to the Union Stock Yards, Chicago, through the 
ignorance of farmers and carelessness of shippers, and are 
now, for aught I know, I have seen cars of hogs start from 
western Iowa with iDronounced cases of cholera, with hogs 
dying all the way in, and on their arrival at Chicago, the 
dead Avere sold to local butchers to be tried into lard, and 
those able to walk over the scales into the great packing- 
houses were converted into '^sugar-cured hams'' and pickled 
pork. Every shipper of swine product knows the truth of 
what I state, and every inspector in the yards and packer 
knows that diseased meat has been handed out to the con- 
sumer. 

I would much prefer to draw the veil over man's in- 
humanity to man, but I consider the duty I owe as an 
American to relate my experiences. Picture to yourself 
the home of the cattle raiser on the great prairies of the 
West, who, with his little family, is battling, like all of 
us, for an existence. I can tell the story no better than to 
follow the little calf who first saw the light of day on a 
storm-swept prairie, until he, as a three-year-old, fattened 
for the market, entered one of the great abattoirs in the 
city on the shore of Lake Michigan. The first six months 
of its life it ran by its mother's side. The following spring 
it entered the one-^^ear-old grade, and roughed it, summer 
and winter, until it became a two-year-old past, and entered 
the feed-3'ard to be fattened, a corn-fed steer for the mar- 
ket. During those long years corn was planted and gath- 



THE PASSING OF THE STOCKMAN. 



121 



ered by williui: liauds in the' lioi)^ that in the end the re- 
ward would come, but, ala.s, what a sacriticel 

I was a shipper of live stock to Chicago before, during 
and after the formation of the Beef Trust. Prior to its 




Union Stock Yards, Chicago. 

formation, buyers from Pittsburg, Buffalo, Philadelphia 
and New York were in the yards bidding for our stock, and 
the prices we obtained gave us some reward for our labor. 
I will long remember the morning when I arrived at the 
yards with a consignment of stock and was informed by 
my commissioner, Ilarley Green, that the day of a profit to 



122 WHEN THE WILDWOOD WAS IN FLOWEK. 

the stockman was at an end. He informed me of the form- 
ing of the Beef Trust and that competition was no more. 
An arbitrary price succeeded "supi3lY and demand." The 
combination fixed the price. They knew wliat it cost to 
fatten a steer, and the bid was just enough to encourage 
you to go back and make another try. If you didn't like the 
price of the day, you had the privilege of paying yardage — 
a rather expensive undertaking. 

If you thought you were being robbed, which you were, 
you could reload and ship farther East, but you would 
run against the same combination with virtually the same 
bid. There was nothing for you to do but to stand and 
deliver, and return to your family and try to comfort those 
who had toiled with you for three long years to convert that 
little calf into a fattened steer, and tell the same sad story 
that other stockmen carried to their isolated homes. 

The Beef Trust was not satisfied with controlling the 
purchasing end, but after the stock was slaughtered and 
passed through the packing-houses, it was shipped to the 
cold-storage houses of the East, and put on the block with 
an arbitrary price to the consumer. That was the condi- 
tion then, and through the non-action of the law-enforcing 
power it prevails to-da}^ An individual or corporation 
who controls the price at both the purchasing and dis- 
tributing end of a product exacts all the profit — it 
is simply a question of how much do you want ere 
you quit, and human nature's wants are never satis- 
fied. Tlie greed of that great combination deprived the 
little children of the stock raiser of education and the nec- 
essaries of life — their mothers, through toil and depriva- 
tion, were driven to the asylum, and their fathers to their 
graves with broken hearts, and as I, who they drove out 



THE PASSING OF THE STOCKMAN. 123 

of business, see the offsprino- of the Armours, Morrises and 
their kind, and tlie beneficiaries of like combinations, 
flaunting' their predatory wealth, it is easy for me to under- 
stand w liv there is unrest throughout the domain of this 
great Republic. 

As I look back to the herds of cattle and other stock I 
once owned, and the little colts I petted and who wore 
tlieir lives away in my behalf, as I cast my eye over the 
plains where so many friendships were formed, a feeling of 
sadness comes over me. For I realize that they and those 
pleasant associations are gone forever. When I remember 
the live stock that I was instrumental in bringing into this 
world, who knew no other home than mine, and who looked 
to me for protection, but whom I loaded into cars to be 
shipped to their death, I feel as if I had committed an un- 
pardonable sin, and as I know that those animals gave up 
everything, even their lives, for ni}^ profit, I cannot help but 
think, what good have I done in this world to atone for 
such a sacrifice? 



THE END. 



« The first literary effort by G. Smith Stanton, « 

I Where the Sportsman Loves to Linger. | 

g was pronounced by many of its readers to be one of g 



f> 



g the most interesting of little volumes. Chief Justice « 

g Fuller, of the United States Supreme Court, wrote Mr. g 

g Stanton that it was "the most excellent and vivid g 

g brochure" he had ever read. The book describes the g 

g three most popular canoe trips in the State of Maine g 

g — the Allagash, and the East and West Branches of g 

g the Penobscot. The author tells most entertainingly g 

g of his hunting and fishing experience, and also gives g 

g plenty of information and advice useful to the reader, g 

g as he takes him from New York City by the Maine g 

g Steamship Company Line to Portland, thence through g 

g the Maine woods, and brings him back to the city by the ^ 

p Fall River Line. The story is one of actual experiences, « 

% and the author was fortunate to have as his companion ^ 

^ Dr. Hazelton, of Bangor, one of the best amateur ^ 

lol camera artists in the country, and the book contains ^ 

% eighty half-tone pictures of the scenery and the wild ^ 

lol animals of the Maine woods. ^ 

|§[ The book is printed on specially made wood-cut 4k 

^ paper, from large type, contains one hundred and p 

i twenty-five pages, fully illustrated, and is bound in g 

«[ attractive cloth binding, with printed inset on the g 

» front cover. Price, one dollar, net. § 

» It can be secured at all bookstores, or it will be g 

« sent by mail upon receipt of price, $1.00, and 8 cents g 

» additional for postage. Address all orders to g 

I J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COHPANY, g 

« BOX 767. 57 ROSE STREET. NEW YORK. § 



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